5 Maelstrom: Elita
by illmatar
Summary: Elita makes a comeback or two...and lots of Quints get whacked. Latest chapter of Maelstrom. Read the comics on deviantart search illmatar and previous chapters. Mature for violence
1. Chapter 1

**Maelstrom 5**

**Elita: Part 1**

Author's note: This story is part of a LONG series called Maelstrom. It is strictly Gen. 1 - sorry, but that was all that was out when I started writing back in the late 1980's. It began as a fan-publication so the first chapters are in the form of a **comic book**! If you have not read the nine original **Maelstrom Comics** and the preceding text stories, I strongly suggest you do. This is a complex universe. They can be found at http// illmatar. deviantart. com (I have put double spaces between the addy here or FF . Net eats the link.) The comics and art which accompanies this series are there...and believe me I am a better artist than writer.

**Most chapters of this series contain strong language and violence. Rated M for adult themes! Really! Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Critiques adored!**

"Man! I just ain't cut out for this kinda work!" Jazz complained. There was grime on his legs which he tried futilely to brush off. His hands were even dirtier and he only made things worse.

"You've given yourself stripes....and it's got to be done," Magnus said, sounding none to happy about it either.

"I ain't stupid Major General," Jazz started.

"You are if you keep calling me Major General," Magnus interrupted, but Jazz continued without missing a beat.

"I just wish Prime and Prime Inc. would let someone else do it. Secrecy stinks. This's Grapple's line," the Specialist complained, struggling with the surveying equipment. Mysterious pieces of it clattered to the floor.

"Prime and Prime Inc.?" Rodimus said with a chuckle, coming up from behind them.

"AHHHHH!" Jazz and Magnus cried out in unison.

"I liked it better when you were pretending to walk like the rest of us," Magnus complained.

"Sorry. Would it help if I told you help is arriving? Grapple, Springer, and Kup are coming down to lend us a hand, although they think this is just a surveying mission to reclaim some of these old tunnels for security's sake and eventually additional living quarters, which is true also."

"Wait. You are planning to allow living areas around your secret express road down to Vector Sigma?" Magnus asked dubiously.

"That is my plan," Rodimus said in a silly tone. He grinned. Magnus and Jazz stared at him. "Oh don't worry so much. No one will even know its here. The quarters will provide cover for our life signs and those living in them will also help confuse any empaths or telepaths trying to single us out. The tunnel itself will be secured, monitored, and worked into the blueprints right under the "real" access-ways so that no one will ever dream of looking for it. I plan to hide it in plain sight so to speak."

"It's scary the way your twisted little mind works Rod-Man," Jazz said seriously.

"When is help arriving?" Magnus said, never having lost sight of what mattered most to _him_.

"Any minute now, so_ try_ to act normal," Rodimus smiled.

"Yeah," Jazz said, "Just be careful not to hurt yourself with the strain!"

By the time Kup, Springer, and Grapple joined them, Rodimus had managed to get Jazz and Magnus separated.

Grapple berated Jazz about the abuse of the equipment and got straight to work. The others mostly assisted by clearing debris and taking measurements. Magnus and Kup resigned themselves to numerous trips to the surface with heaps of scrap-metal loading them down. Wreck-gar waited for them at the surface, rubbing his hands with glee at the prospect of more trash to haul home. As they worked, they generally joked and chattered with each other except for Kup. The old warrior spoke only when he had to and somehow managed to work apart from the others even in the tight quarters of the tunnel. Everyone else was too glad of a relatively stress-free chance to spend time together and tried not to let it bother them when repeated attempts to draw him into the conversation failed. The work was physically difficult but at least it didn't involve out-right fighting, or in the case of the counsel members intrigue, Converts, and murder. The physical activity was almost pleasurable in that regard.

It wasn't long though before Rodimus started slowing down ever so slightly. Magnus and Jazz noticed almost right away but only because they were looking for it. Exchanging knowing, concerned looks, the two of them tried to get a hand in on whatever Rodimus was trying to move. Working as a team, they managed to keep him from lifting any of the heaviest pieces on his own, knowing he would never admit to being tired - especially in front of Kup and the others. He had had several more of those strange "attacks" since their first trip down to Vector Sigma, and neither of them were about to let him exhaust himself moving junk.

Magnus kept a watchful eye on Rodimus but couldn't help but notice that Kup kept staring at him.

"What?" the City Commander finally asked.

"Why are you here?" Kup wanted to know, leaving Magnus in a temporary state of panic. He knew why he was there but he couldn't tell Kup that.

"He's here for his monthly reports of course, and I asked him to help out," Rodimus interjected smoothly.

"Don't you think he should be heading back to Metroplex around now? Seeing as how he's supposed to be running the place," Kup said sarcastically.

"What do you mean 'supposed to be running the place?'" Magnus asked dangerously.

"Well, seeing as how you're hardly ever there anymore. It's just like I'm supposed to be the block-crackin' Security Advisor and no one listens to my blasted advise!"

Rodimus sighed. "We listened to you advise, Kup. We just decided not to follow it."

"Confound it Lad! It is stupid to open up living quarters this close to Central!" Kup growled.

"Optimus and I don't share that opinion, Kup. The refugees from Paradron need more space. They've been packed in those temp quarters for years and this sector is the most habitable. I'm ashamed it's taken us this long." They cleared away a fallen section of ceiling together. Their hands lifted in unison, but the optics they locked were bright with agitation.

Kup muttered curses, "You used to respect my opinion Lad."

"I still do Kup, but I don't _always_ agree with it," Rodimus said firmly, lifting another piece of rubble. It hit the wall with a hollow, ringing thud. Rodimus froze and cocked his head, listening.

"As is his right as your superior officer, Kup," Magnus growled, "and I resent the implication that I'm not performing my duties."

"Be quiet you two," Rodimus said.

"The point I was making Ultra Magnus is that they aren't using either of us for the duties we are supposedly there to perform! I was not trying to say you weren't doing your job adequately."

"Be quiet," Rodimus said again over his shoulder from where he was inexplicably inspecting the wall.

"You see? He's lost all respect for both of us!" Kup cried.

Magnus, having heard Rodi's order, didn't answer, and Kup sputtered in indignation.

"Kup! He said to shut-up!" Springer said.

"Stay out of this Springer!" Kup cried.

"Uh, guys..." Grapple tried. He hated the bickering.

"Look at him! He's not even paying attention to anything I've said," Kup growled, indicating Rodimus who was studying the wall intently. Magnus and Jazz knew that look from their last trip down. Magnus stiffened and Jazz drew his weapon.

Springer warmed to the topic. "Well maybe he's just tired of your pompous, over-bearing..."

"WILL ALL OF YOU **PLEASE** SILENCE YOURSELVES?" Rodimus roared, his eyes flaring mad-green. Once the echo stopped he got what he wanted - dead quiet.

Magnus smirked just a little. Jazz looked at Kup and shook his head in disgust while Rodimus listened at the wall and tapped on it. Magnus came up to stand beside him.

"What is it?" Magnus asked.

"I don't know. Maybe nothing," Rodimus said. Using his friend's bulk to hide his actions, Rodimus slipped a Jabez-crafted scanner out one of his arm-compartments and scanned the wall. Unbelievably, the hexagonal device registered life-sign. Faint, unmistakable life-sign. He didn't bother to hide his shock. At most, he'd been looking for some kind of hidden tunnel.

"Something's here," he cried. "Someone's here! Grapple - help me find the door!" It took some searching, with Grapple both complimenting and cursing the engineering behind the hidden portal, but they finally defined it's edges. He wanted to know how Rodimus had even noticed the entrance, but Rodimus passed it off as luck and redirected Grapples attention to the wonderful, frustrating problem of getting the door open. Springer and Kup seemed particularly annoyed when Rodimus insisted on spending the better part of an hour hunting for the trigger instead of just blasting it. Jazz and Magnus knew he'd find it eventually, and Grapple had had enough of his own designs carelessly destroyed to be patient with this one.

When the door finally opened it stuck half-way. Rodimus slipped in - ready for anything. He nearly leapt out of his metallic skin when a scanning laser passed over his chest. It focused on his symbol and he prepared for all kinds of nasty surprises. Instead, low powered lights went on and revealed a descending tunnel. He wasn't quite ready to sigh with relief and remained on guard, but he wondered what would have happened if his symbol had been Decepticon. Stepping through the threshold, he got an answer to both that, and the reason the door was jamming.

Two Decepticon corpses, corroded with age, lay just inside the door. Their heads had been neatly severed by some form of laser powerful enough to partially melt their features. One of the bodies was pressing the door from the inside, preventing it from functioning smoothly. Rodimus toed it aside, and the door opened the rest of the way.

"I guess they weren't invited," he quipped. He was excited. Something about this sang of a significant discovery. He led them down the dim tunnel, watching for traps the whole way down in case the corpses were decoys, or something that identified "safe" intruders had broken.

What they found at the bottom surpassed all his wildest hopes and imaginings. It was simply too wonderful to be true - they just weren't that lucky.

I've gotten to be quite a pessimist! Rodimus thought to himself gleefully while the others stared.

They were standing in a large room containing a security computer and twenty stasis chambers - 17 of which were occupied. Rodimus walked up to the first one and grinned.

"It's Elita!" he whispered joyfully, leaning on the tube for support. Jazz laughed at him.

Magnus looked the tube skeptically up and down and then grudgingly agreed. "Yes it is but how did you know? Did you ever meet her?"

"Matrix memories," Rodimus explained. "Optimus is going to flip! We have to try to revive them before we tell him! If something goes wrong or if this is really some form of Decepticon hoax, the disappointment will crush him. Grapple! Check the equipment! Springer, go get Perceptor, but don't tell anyone why. If Optimus asks just tell him I said so and wouldn't tell you why. He'll buy that! Go! Hurry up!"

Springer and Grapple were only too happy to comply. The disappearance of Elita's team had long been a mystery and sorrow for the Autobots - a sadness as deep as they joy that had followed their original rediscovery years ago. The Decepticon occupation had somehow cut off all contact with Elita's nomadic team and there had been no word from them in over a decade. When Rodimus had first become commander and the Autobots had retaken Cybertron, they had hoped Elita's team would resurface, not that Rodimus had looked forward to telling Elita her mate was dead. No more than he had enjoyed telling the revived Optimus that there had been no sign of Elita in the first years of Rodimus' term as leader.

Rodimus remembered painfully the quiet sorrow and resignation in Optimus' eyes - the death of hope. At that time, the younger Prime could only imagine what it must have felt like for Optimus - newly revived, but facing the bleak prospect of an eternity without the one he loved. Now Rodimus understood that feeling only too well, but he was beyond joy at the prospect of at least giving his partner a new reason to live.

He tried to quell the rising anticipation of telling Optimus Elita lived - so much could go wrong with stasis tubes. It really could be some sadistic form of Decepticon trap - Rodimus could picture Megatron using Elita's likeness this way quite easily. Something in him wouldn't listen to the cold voice of reason though - his Matrix spawned instincts told him the figure before him was no Decepticon copy. The layout and the traps FELT like her handiwork. He surveyed the orderly arrangement of room and the equipment. Lots of the parts were jury-rigged. No doubt working stasis tubes were in short supply during the Decepticon occupation. In spite of that, he noted how seamlessly connections between the disparate components were forged. It didn't just work, it was almost....artistic. It could have been forced together and still functioned, but the parts weren't crammed into place - they flowed. It was unlikely a Decepticon would have bothered making a ruse with such craftsmanship. The room itself was in perfect order as well - except for about a decade's worth of dust. He could easily imagine the flurry of activity required to set up this chamber and prepare it for their long sleep. He looked around for a moment and found all the tools neatly tucked away. Rodi wondered how many other Autobots would have bothered to clean after themselves at such a time.

Grapple pronounced the equipment in working order, which didn't eliminate the dangers of revival, but certainly did reduce them significantly.

By the time Springer got back with Perceptor, Rodimus had already decided on how to tell his partner the good news, had relegated poor Jazz to finding the soon-to-be-awakened girls living quarters, and had assigned an openly disgusted (and privately nervous) City Commander the job of bringing them up to date on events since they went into stasis. Kup was designated tour guide.

"And what will you be doing Mighty-One?" Magnus said, facetiously imitating Cyclonus' groveling tones.

Rodimus grinned, "That was pretty good, Mags! Maybe you should always address me that way!" Magnus opted not to respond so Rodimus continued with a smirk. "To answer your question, I will be running the whole show while Optimus and Elita get...reacquainted!" He seemed inordinately pleased with this idea.

Jazz and Magnus sighed in unison. It was becoming more apparent by the day that Rodimus was not entirely well and they didn't like to think of him shouldering the entire burden of command even for a little while. On the other hand, Rodimus refused to admit anything was in any way wrong, and they could tell from his enthusiasm that there was no way they could dissuade him. Without saying a word they both agreed to take on more of it themselves. It was an exhausting prospect.

Perceptor oversaw the revival with his usual meticulous care. It went flawlessly and there were soon 17 dazed female Autobots to reassure. Rodimus radioed Optimus to meet him at the top of the tunnels immediately, putting enough urgency in his voice to send his partner racing. By the time Elita was awake enough to really understand anything that was being said to her, Optimus was at the top of the hidden tunnel, looking at the corpses. Rodimus was waiting for him and slipped up on him from behind, startling Optimus by putting his hands over Op's optic sensors.

"Guess who?" Rodimus sang.

"RODIMUS! What kind of sick prank are you playing now? I don't have time for this! Let me go!" Optimus cried, struggling a little. The fact that he couldn't seem to budge the aggravating weight on his back bothered him a little. He didn't like to be reminded of Rodimus' assassin's skills this way. It made him feel vulnerable.

"Nope! I won't let you go! I have a surprise for you! Don't worry! I'm pretty sure you'll like it!" Rodimus said with a rare, genuine laugh. The laugh startled Optimus into behaving all the way down the tunnel. Kup was sitting with Elita and talking to her soothingly when the Primes made their strange appearance at the mouth of the tunnel. Elita blinked in stasis-induced confusion for a moment, but then a wide, overjoyed smile brightened her lovely face.

She got up swiftly and put a hand over Rodi's, meeting the young robot's gleaming optics with equal mischief and delight. Rodimus grinned and slipped his hands out from under hers.

"Guess who?" Elita said huskily, knowing Optimus could see enough, and pulling her hand down slightly.

Optimus stared. He tried to speak, failed, and stared some more. Trembling, he took her still-extended hand into his own and drew her to him - then suddenly grabbed her in a crushing hug which looked a bit painful to those watching. Somehow Elita didn't seem to mind.

All optics were on this reunion and even the females who weren't entirely awake yet smiled. Jazz was openly mooning over the romance of it all, which made Magnus wish for a lake to dunk him in. Not even Perceptor was oblivious to the profound joy the reunited pair were projecting as they held and stared at each other without saying a word.

Nevertheless, Rodimus was suddenly very glad to have other revivees to concentrate on. His real smile was replaced by a visually identical but emotionally bankrupt mask. He hated himself for not being able to sustain his joy for Optimus, but he suddenly felt overwhelmingly alone. Barring further tragedy, Optimus had just found the completion of his soul for an Autobot's eternity. It only made Rodimus that much more aware of how his own soul was bleeding.

He introduced himself to Elita's awakening forces, and tried to explain away their shock over his name, giving them the barest details of his partnership with Optimus. Elita might have been disoriented and distracted, but she still didn't miss a word he said.

"Partners? You share the duty?" she asked as though she could barely believe it.

"Yup!" Rodimus crowed. "It's good for things like taking a few days...or even a few weeks off!"

Elita blinked, a little dumbfounded. It had been over a decade since she'd desperately put her small band into stasis, but to her it seemed like only moments. Back then, they had been hunted almost to extinction. The Decepticon forces were growing stronger by the day on fuel stolen from Earth, forcing Elita's team deeper and deeper into hiding, and making even finding energon an enormous risk. After losing four of her people on futile raids, Elita knew they were facing extermination. They couldn't even fuel themselves, let alone put up any kind of effective resistance. Their weapons were so low on power they were nearly useless, and Elita didn't need to guess the outcome of even a few Decepticons discovering their lair.

Finally, she had called her team together to discuss their options - they could keep trying and hope for a lucky strike of energon, or they could pour all of their remaining resources into the stasis chambers and the security system. They had voted on stasis, aware of the risks, but hoping against hope that somehow the Autobots would regain the upper hand and come to free their female counterparts.

In the end, they had given the security lasers enough power to fire three separate times and the rest would go towards sustaining them for as long as possible....about 23 Earth years. Elita's team thought there was enough for 24 years and there was, but only because Elita had programed the computer to shut her chamber off if they weren't rescued in the first 15 years. She had, of course, refrained from mentioning that to them. Against the background of a Cybertronian lifetime, fifteen years wasn't long, and in her heart of hearts, the best Elita had realistically hoped for was that silent shut-down for all of her people. None of them would have ever woken up.

The possibility of Decepticon discovery, capture, and torture had been a far more likely possibility.

Yet now they were awake, safe, and in the company of their own people. Better still, Elita could see they were in no dire hurry to escape right away, so the surrounding territory had to be under Autobot control. It was all more than she'd ever hoped for.

On top of all that good fortune, her mate was alive, well, and HERE.

The concept that he had a partner, someone to share the burden was beyond her imagination.

The suggestion of personal time of ANY duration was enough to strain her logic circuits - such things didn't happen anymore. Not since the day Megatron had sentenced Orion and Ariel to a lifetime of war. Obviously, the er....interestingly... painted young robot who claimed to be Optimus' partner was quite out of his mind. It was simply too good to be true.

Optimus confirmed her analysis by saying, "Now Rodimus, you know I simply do not have time for..."

"OH NO YOU DON'T!" Rodimus interrupted forcefully. It was Elita's first look into the partnership. In her experience, no one but she talked to the legendary Optimus Prime as an equal - and even she reserved it for private moments. "Let's see if this sounds familiar Optimus," Rodimus went on. "'We formed the partnership so we could help each other. You shouldn't have to sacrifice your relationship for the leadership! Don't make the same mistake I did with Elita! Life is too short! Yaddayadda! Yadda! Yadda!'"

Elita couldn't help it. She chuckled a little, as did some of her team nervously, and some of the Autobots openly. They were apparently used to Rodimus imitating her mate right down to the body language. He had taken on Op's stance, inflections, and gestures -albeit wildly exaggerated - giving Elita the impression that Rodimus had plenty of practice both listening to Optimus, and spoofing him as well. For his part, Optimus must have been fairly used to being teased this way, since he merely sighed, shook his head, and capitulated.

"Elita, don't laugh. It only encourages him," Optimus said with resignation.

"Are you seriously thinking about taking time off? Is our situation that secure?" Elita asked.

Optimus and Rodimus exchanged a look that was only too serious for Elita's comfort.

"It's secure enough for you two to get away for a little while," Rodimus said insistently.

"What about the Decepticons?" Moonracer wanted to know.

"They're around," Rodimus said, "but they no longer have any strongholds on Earth or Cybertron. We've driven them back as far as Char. It's a nasty little place I thinks suits them just fine!"

"Ah!" said Elita. "Then Rodimus gets all the encouragement I can muster!" After millennia of combat, and over a decade of enforced sleep - Elita needed a break.

Rodimus grinned happily. He could sense an ally a mile away.

This statement opened up a flood of questions from all sides about what had happened since the team had gone into stasis. Optimus and Rodimus gave them a very brief run-down with occasional help from the others. Naturally this only led to more questions - some serious, some not so serious. Firestar asked about Inferno, and Rodimus mischievously agreed to tell the unsuspecting fire-engine that he was getting a new partner - like it or not. Firestar was looking forward to surprising her friend the way Elita had surprised Prime. Moonracer didn't even want to give Powerglide that much warning - she just planned to knock on his quarters and accuse him of never contacting her. This idea caused a round of snickering, at least until Chromia asked about Ironhide.

Maybe it was the way all the Autobots grew suddenly silent.

Maybe it was the way Optimus stiffened in Elita's grasp (she still had her arm around his waist.)

Probably, though, it was the profound change in Rodi's expression when he turned to face Chromia. He didn't say anything. He didn't shake his head either. He didn't need to.

Chromia's happy expression faded slowly - she knew - but her body's responses were a few steps behind her heart's. Rodimus sensed it coming anyway and took a step towards her as she stared at him, wide-opticed, with her smile stretching wider into a grimace of anguish.

"no..." she whispered. Rodi's arms enclosed her whole body. "NO!" she shrieked. She pounded on Rodimus' chest with her fists with all her strength, screaming "NONONONONONO!" continuously as she pummeled him. He didn't let go, but held her tighter and tighter until she exhausted herself and sagged against him, sobbing.

"I know," he whispered sadly, "I know."

In the depth of her pain, Chromia sensed complete honesty in that simple statement. She was beyond analyzing or even thinking about what he was saying really - it was just a simple recognition of the truth. He wasn't saying anything else. He never told her it was alright. Never went on about Ironhide's brave death as others would later. He never told her to "be strong for Ironhide" or to " get on with her life". He just seemed to go down into her grief with her to hold her and make her feel less alone.

Magnus and Optimus exchanged glances, and Elita noticed and wondered about it. All this time they had been aware of Rodimus' grief for Lancer, but this was as close as they'd ever come to seeing him_ show_ it. Jazz seemed to be thinking the same thing as he looked at Rodimus and shook his head. The boy would bottle up his own pain no matter what the damage to himself, but give him a need to help someone else, and Rodimus would even use his grief as a tool. The Specialist tried to decide whether to admire Rodimus for it or to simply wring his neck.

Most of Elita's team, although greatly subdued by Ironhide's death and the news of the others that had died, quickly regained their enthusiasm once they reached the surface. Cybertron had changed dramatically since they had last seen its skies and they liked what they saw, although they did comment that the boys could have chosen a more attractive moon. There was a brief sight-seeing tour on the way to Central and then a more formal debriefing and round of introductions.

It wasn't until he was formally introduced and Elita teased Magnus lightly by referring to him by his old name, that Magnus noticed one of Elita's team start, and stare at him intently. At first he felt some annoyance, then, as he looked at her, a growing sense of familiarity. When Elita introduced her as Neon, he suddenly placed her curious, somewhat vapid stare. He had known her millennia ago - before he was even an officer, before he was Ultra Magnus. He wondered if he looked as different to her as she did to him - her body armor had changed dramatically. Looking again at her startled face, he realized it hadn't changed at all, and decided therefore that the changes in his own mind were what had rendered her unrecognizable to him. They were in the middle of a meeting, so he couldn't talk to her right then, but he could guess why she hadn't known him. It was more than the name or the massive changes in his body armor. Magnus had known Neon in what he considered his foolish youth, and his entire demeanor had changed. The name Ultra Magnus had been given to him when he'd become an officer to better suit a scarred, more mature personality.

Elita and Neon were among the very few who had ever known him as anything BUT Ultra Magnus, and the City Commander realized he had been pretty comfortable with that.

He remained deeply ashamed of his younger self.

Alone with these worries, Magnus suppressed them with practiced ease and got his mind back on business. Rodimus and Optimus were having a spirited, playful argument about how many days Optimus and Elita would spend off together. Optimus suggested a few hours. Rodimus suggested two years. Elita immediately took Rodi's side, much to Rodi's evident amusement. Optimus agreed to a day; Rodimus suggested three years.

"Oh! I like the way you think Rodimus!" Elita said with a chuckle.

Rodimus grinned in a way that made Optimus and the others shudder in terror and brace themselves for the worst. "Well, my beautiful Elita," he said in mock seduction," Why don't you run away with me since Optimus doesn't seem to want your charming company?"

"OK FINE! I'll take a week!" Optimus said, "But don't you dare leave me a ton of work to make up when it's over!"

"Two weeks!" Rodimus said.

"A week and a half!" Optimus said, cursing Rodimus for doing this in front of Elita's people so that he couldn't really name his objections, which was of course exactly why Rodimus WAS doing it now.

"Done!" Rodimus chuckled, leaving Optimus the sinking feeling that Rodi would really have accepted a week if Optimus had pressed the issue a bit more. Rodi startled his partner even more by saying. "OK! Leave! Go make your plans and get out of my face! I'm sick of you both already!" The girls couldn't believe his audacity, although the Autobots just shook their heads.

"What? Now?" Optimus cried.

"Of course!" Rodi grinned. Optimus got up and dragged his partner to a corner to talk privately.

"You can't be serious. Aren't we going to give Elita a full debriefing? I promise you Rodimus, she will be an enormous help."

"I know, and I agree, but don't you think she will enjoy herself more if she gets her debriefing after her vacation? Go on Optimus. Try to forget for a while. Enjoy her innocence if nothing else. Give her a few days of peace, and try to give them to yourself too."

"But..."

"Nothing's is going to happen in a week's time and if it does, let's face it partner, we aren't ready and a week isn't going to matter much. However, a few days off and a change of scene will make a difference in your state of mind which is far more important in the long run, right?"

Optimus was wise enough to know when to surrender.


	2. Chapter 2

**Maelstrom 5**

**Elita: Part 2**

Author's note: This story is part of a LONG series called Maelstrom. It is strictly Gen. 1 - sorry, but that was all that was out when I started writing back in the late 1980's. It began as a fan-publication so the first chapters are in the form of a **comic book**! If you have not read the nine original **Maelstrom Comics** and the preceding text stories, I strongly suggest you do. This is a complex universe. They can be found at http// illmatar. deviantart. com (I have put double spaces between the addy here or FF . Net eats the link.) The comics and art which accompanies this series are there...and believe me I am a better artist than writer.

**Most chapters of this series contain strong language and violence. Rated M for adult themes! Really! Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Critiques adored!**

The next week and a half went by in a chaotic blur for those on duty, although it went even faster for Optimus and Elita. Jazz somehow managed to find quarters for everyone, although it didn't hurt that Elita and Firestar were moving in with their mates. (Inferno had nearly shorted out when his "new partner" had turned out to be his life-partner.) Moonracer had opted for her own quarters, and Chromia had asked, sadly, for Ironhide's old rooms which had been left respectfully unoccupied. Rodimus had nearly denied her request at first but he sensed somehow that she wouldn't just hole up in there and pine. For her it was merely a comforting place to start over and he had gravely given Jazz permission to let her move in. (Jazz understood Rodi's initial reluctance but he was still glad he wasn't going to have to be the one to tell Chromia no. The fem-bot was putting up a brave face but Jazz was afraid a denial would have really shattered her.) He also managed to help Magnus get everyone caught up on Cybertron's more recent history and the current state of things.

Magnus needed the help. The assignment made it painfully clear just how much life on Cybertron had changed in the last few years especially. The retreat of the Decepticons was only the beginning. The femmes had to adjust to all the alien life, especially humans, which swarmed through the space-ports and trading centers daily and spilled out onto the street to see the sights. There was so much construction going on that Elita's team could barely find their way around and much of it was strange to them because it was being built to safely accomidate organics as well as Transformers. Most of this work was being done by relocated Paradronians and reflected their more aesthetic slant towards building - meaning they built as much for pleasant appearance as functionality. (Grapple had final approval of all the designs and orders from the Primes that everything be defensible as well as beautiful, but Magnus still thought of much of this as "silly baubles.")

Neon thought it was all just wonderful.

Magnus sighed and shook his head. On top of helping the fems adjust, he was assigning them posts, and catching them up on current procedures and technology (in which they were even further behind than he feared. As a guerrilla band, Elita's troops hadn't been up with current regs in far longer than a few decades.) To make things even more interesting, he and Jazz were trying to make sure Rodimus didn't kill himself trying to do his own work and all of Optimus' as well.

Magnus grimaced. It wasn't easy to get Rodimus to slow down with mere common-sense. The boy was driven by so many things - his determination to see Optimus relax for once, his tortured memories, his insane idea that every human life which slipped through for Conversion was somehow his personal fault, and of course his need to be too busy to think about Lancer. In the face of all that, little statements like "if you don't recharge you're going to pass out!" just didn't get through, so Magnus and Jazz took it upon themselves to see to it half of the work never made it to Rodi's desk. Poor Jazz looked almost a worn out as Rodimus did, but for once Magnus was sort of grateful for the work-load.

It meant he could honestly tell Neon he didn't have time right now to talk to her. He sighed again, a little ashamed of himself. He didn't know why he wanted to avoid her. They had not parted on bad terms, quite the opposite, but the war had carried them away from each other the way it did so many couples. He had missed her - for a while - but not recently. Honestly, not in several million years. Completely honestly, he hadn't even thought about her in several million years. He shook his head at himself, unable to decide what that meant. Was it a flaw in his character that he didn't think of her daily like Optimus had Elita? Or was it just that while he had had some affection for Neon and certainly physical attraction, that it hadn't been "love" the way it was for Optimus and Elita? Certainly, he hadn't felt the kind of grief Rodimus was so stubbornly and so futilely trying deny, ignore, and escape.

No, Magnus reflected, he had mostly missed the idle conversation, and the ability to name a girlfriend more than the girlfriend herself. Once The Disaster happened and he started taking his career more seriously, there was no need to kill time and he had better things to concentrate on than the lack of a mate. Distinguishing himself as an officer and hopefully making up somehow for The Disaster became the entire focus of his life, one he wasn't feeling much need to change.

Neon wanted to get together though "for old times sake", and he supposed he owed her that much courtesy. Magnus sighed. Another chore to attend to, but not today. Optimus and Elita were coming home today.

"What?" Rodimus cried when his partner arrived at the door to their joint work areas in Central. "Back already? And just when we were starting to enjoy your absence too! Why don't you go away for a few more days or maybe a year?"

"As if I wanted to return to this abuse," Optimus said with a rare smile in his tone. He would never encourage Rodimus by admitting it but the break had done the elder Prime good. It had helped him let go of a lot of stress but more importantly it had reaffirmed a loving friendship that had been severed too long. There had been times in the last several million years of separation that Optimus wondered if he hadn't somehow idealized Elita's memory to the point that if they ever did reunite that he would find she didn't live up to his imagination. He had also feared the very normal changes in both of them over such a span of time would prove to be a barrier. All of his fears had proven groundless.

Elita gave Rodimus a grateful smile and opened herself up for all kinds of trouble.

"Welcome to the Think Tank Elita," Rodimus said resonantly. "This is where Optimus sits around looking important, while I do all the work!"

Magnus, carrying in a stack of micro-condensed files that was almost too much for him, dropped them on a desk, letting the thud and an evil glare at his younger leader speak for him.

Elita, not knowing any better, laughed, especially when Jazz carried in a similar stack of files.

"_Your _work is all done, Hot Rod Sir," Jazz said with tired, biting sarcasm.

"That's not this week's files is it?!" Optimus said, appalled at the thought of so much backlog.

"Nopenopenope!" Rodimus said gleefully. "That's our finished agenda for the next two weeks!" He smirked in Optimus' face. He had been absolutely determined that Optimus would have no possible complaints to use as fuel for future vacation/no vacation arguments. He had driven the Autobots (himself especially) without mercy from the instant Optimus left, and now they, particularly the command staff, could have used a vacation as well.

Optimus sighed.

"All of this is two weeks worth of reports?" Elita asked, shocked. She turned her eyes on her mate, who suddenly looked nervous. "Ori..Optimus what is going on here?"

"Err..." he said.

"No! No more side-stepping! I agreed to drop it for the week, but don't try to tell me this is just standard! Even at the height of the war, which you've supposedly won, we never had half this many files!" She put her hands on her hips and glared at him challengingly, and tried not to show the fear she felt when the mood in the room dropped a few thousand degrees. She noticed Rodimus gliding like a phantom to the door and locking it.

"Come with us," he said softly. Elita looked at her mate's partner - he seemed like a different person all of a sudden.

"Why not here?" she asked but he shook his head. Optimus did the same as he took her by the arm and led her into the domed-ceilinged conference room. She stared around her. The furniture seemed normal enough, but the resemblance to any other conference room she'd sat in ended there. There was an oval table with seats for six Autobots, and another, tiny chair on the table she assumed was for a human to use. There were the usual computers and monitors, but Elita suspected this system was completely enclosed with no links to any other. One of the screens showed at least five separate shields just for this room, one of which was labeled an "energy mask". Then there were the sensor nets which coated the very walls - she couldn't begin to tally them, and the walls! The floor! It was all made out of metal so reflective it was nearly blinding. Even as a robot on a metallic world, Elita had never seen a surface so highly polished...yet their feet didn't scar its finish. A single laser in this room would richochette for hours. Even with the lights dimmed down to nearly nothing, Elita felt her optics straining to compensate.

"You'll get used to it after a while," Optimus said.

"W...why...?" Elita asked in bewilderment.

"Camouflage," Magnus said grimly. "We hope."

"Wha...? How? From what?" Elita cried.

"There is a theory," Rodimus said, "that thought patterns and emotions work on energy frequencies the way light does. There is another theory that thought patterns and emotions can be reflected and contained by a reflective surface, just as light can be. It sounds stupid. It sounds crazy. We thought we'd give it a go though, cause that describes us to a tee!"

"Speak for yourself Rodimus," Magnus grumbled, throwing himself down in his chair.

"We're still experimenting with the shielding. We've only had this room up for a few months...you'll see why we need it in a few minutes," Optimus said gravely to his astounded mate. "What you need to know first is that we are equals in here. Rodimus and I may be in charge outside these walls, but in here that doesn't matter. What we are facing...it's too big for us. Rodimus tried to handle it himself at first, but even he admits we can't manage it all. This is the council chamber. Jazz, Magnus, and First Aid join us in here as our peers. So does a human woman, Marissa Fairborne of EDC but she's on assignment on Earth right now. You must always feel free to bring your opinions to this table."

Optimus indicated the newly installed chair on his right to Elita and she slowly sank into it. She approved of the idea of an open forum, not that she ever minded telling Optimus what was on her mind anyway, but the notion that they were facing something bigger than two Primes...

She listened silently while they told her what she could never tell her people.

Elita digested it all calmly - her face revealing very little of what she was feeling until they finished. When they did the first thing she said was directed at her mate.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me this right away!"

Optimus flinched a little guiltily. "We wanted you to have a few days without worrying about it," he said.

"Yes! And I appreciate it, but there's so much to do! You should have let me start right away!" Elita cried. She looked accusingly from one Prime to the other, and was not too surprised to see an unrepentant smile on Rodi's face. "Nevermind!" she said, unwilling to waste even more time bickering. "Where can I be of the most use?" She practically seethed with determined energy.

Optimus looked at his beloved with something like awe, Magnus shook his head, Jazz smiled, and Rodimus laughed and laughed.

In the end, Elita managed to insinuate herself into just about every aspect of what they were doing to combat the Jabez and those who supported the Jabez. The bulk of her efforts went into the more visible part of running Cybertron - partly of necessity, partly of duplicity. She handled exactly what it might be expected for a person with her leadership skills, and close ties with one of the Primes. Behind that front, she took a large part of the duties Rodimus was supposed to be performing but which really often fell on Jazz and Magnus. This left Jazz with more time and energy to help Rodimus, and let Magnus put more visible energy into his "public" assignment. Unexpectantly, Magnus chafed a little a being back at Metroplex so much, but Kup's complaints in the tunnels were symptomatic of a possible problem. If Kup was noticing Magnus wasn't doing his duties as City Commander very often, so could others, and Rodimus was adamant about the whole "business as usual" facade. Not that there wasn't plenty of Jabez oriented work to do - the children which were being transported through Cybertron were coming from somewhere. Marissa gathered missing persons reports from around the world, and they painstakingly cross-referenced those against flight-logs, shipping records, whatever they could think of. They gave Rodimus reports daily of anything that looked even remotely suspicious and he looked into what he could.

Once, he even managed an "accident" which freed thirteen very young children from the cargo hold of a ship. None of them were more than six, so no one gave much credit to their "wild stories." The crew were all killed in the "accident" so they couldn't be questioned by Earth's authorities. Magnus suspected they had been questioned though - Rodimus knew some things about the children and the kind of trauma therapy they'd need that Magnus didn't want to know how the young Prime had discovered. Seeing Rodimus' face was more than enough.

Still, Magnus looked on with some faint satisfaction as Marissa deleted those names from the missing persons lists, and went out with Jazz on a special mission of their own. All thirteen of the kids would suffer from what their parents attributed to bee-stings in the days following their return. Seeing those tiny, thin, frightened faces made it hard for Jazz to inflict any more pain, no matter how small and necessary, but he did. The Autobots couldn't guard these children openly, but an incredibly tiny micro-transmitter lodged in the large muscle of their young rumps insured they would be found quickly if their names came up on a missing persons report again.

Magnus only wished, like they all wished, that he could drop the facade and do more.

When the Decepticons attacked Cybertron, it was almost a shock. 'Cons weren't exactly high on the leaders' list of priorities.

Then Vector Sigma contacted Optimus with news of Quintissons in the tunnels that list got reevaluated pretty fast.

All the majority of the Autobots knew was that Rodimus was suddenly, conspicuously absent from the conflict and Optimus handled things alone - not that there was much of a fight. Galvatron sputtered his usual insanities, shrieked something incoherent about Astrotrain and Long Haul and left. By the time the Autobots got back to headquarters Rodimus was waiting for them. The command staff just wondered where Rodimus had hidden the bodies when he was done with the Quints and they weren't surprised when he demanded an immediate conference with all of them.

By the time Magnus and Marissa scurried into Central, Elita was in shock. She had been trying futilely to ignore Rodimus the way Optimus did, as the young Prime paced the length of their offices like a caged animal. Elita had had only a few scant weeks to study Rodimus, but she usually rated herself as pretty good at reading people. Every time she thought she had a handle on Rodimus he did or said something which forced her to start over.

Right now he was frightening her a little. She'd seen him be silly, she'd seen him push himself too hard, she'd seen the carefully disguised compassion, intelligence, and dedication which made him a solid partner for Optimus at work. Her last analysis had labeled him a good friend, and a good leader to his people.

Now he seemed more than a little crazy.

Elita glanced at Optimus where he sat at his work-station, doggedly trying to get his "regular" work out of the way before the others arrived to start the meeting. Did he see how Rodimus was acting? She couldn't tell. Why didn't he try to calm his partner down? Would acknowledging Rodi's mood make it worse?

Jazz came in from the conference room and met Elita's worried stare with one of his own. Then Magnus and Marissa hurried in and Rodimus turned mid-pace without greeting them and went into the shielded chamber.

"Nice to meet you," Marissa said to Elita. "Isn't this fun?"

x

x

x

"We need to get rid of them," Rodimus said before Optimus (the last to follow them) even made it all the way into his seat. Rodimus himself chose to stand.

"Get rid of who?' Magnus asked, to all appearances unruffled by his leader's erratic behavior. Elita couldn't decide what bothered her more about that - the fact he still felt the need to to appear calm and professional even under these extremes, or the chance he really might not be bothered by Rodi's agitation.

"The Quintissons. We need to get rid of them. They could expose everything."

"Hey, Man. Slow down and fill us in. What's going on?" Jazz said.

"The Quints know about the Jabez, Jazz. They sent me to them. Even if the Maelstrom team killed all the Jabez that knew me and wiped all the data that would identify me as the specimen, the Quints know it was me....and they were trying to get to Fuckingshit again. I think it's been their objective all along. Besides which, fighting on three fronts is never a really great idea. We need to get rid of them!" Rodimus said.

"What exactly do you mean by 'get rid of them,' Optimus said in a grim tone which indicated he was only too sure he knew what Rodi meant.

"I mean get rid of them. Wipe them out. Exterminate them. There I said it. We need to kill every last one of them."

For a very long moment no one said a word. They all stared at Rodimus as if they'd never seen him before and didn't like much of what they saw now. He knew why, and in his heart of hearts sided with them against himself.

"Rodimus Prime...." Optimus Prime finally said in soft horror, "have you forgotten that you are an Autobot?"

No one else moved a servo while the two Primes stared each other down. Optimus stared at Rodimus - looking for some flicker of remorse or compassion - any hint at all of the boy chosen to succeed him. For the first time in years, the old guilt surfaced, _Hot Rod? What have I done to you?_

For his part, Rodimus held his very real misgivings about the genocide he was proposing deep within. He had to take this pain. He had to be the cold one. The one that risked his soul to insure the survival of gentle people like the ones around him. He hated it, but none of his turmoil flickered through. Optimus met the assassin face to face for the first time and was repulsed.

"My problem, Optimus," Rodimus said, "is that I remember too well things you can hardly imagine, and unless you want all of our people to know such things first hand you will listen. Better, is it not, to have one Autobot who thinks this way than to have all of them end up like me."

Optimus shook his head, "No one should think that way, ever. I refuse to support you in this Rodimus. We will find another way." Optimus spoke with calm conviction. He had no doubts he was right to take this stance, and that he would have the full support of the others, which he did - at first.

"Optimus...if the Jabez get one hint that we even know they exist they will wipe us off the face of the universe! Immediately! Their underworld Sponsors have MILLIONS of Converted mutants...EACH! We wouldn't last long enough to realize we were under attack! You know that! We can't afford Quint tampering!"

"Genocide is out of the question," Optimus intoned.

"Optimus! The Quints obviously don't want the Jabez to get Vector Sigma either but even if they don't TALK to the Jabez five minutes with a good telepath on one of them and we are toast!" Rodimus growled.

"Genocide is out of the question. There must be another way."

Rodimus punched straight down at the table. "We don't have the time! You are putting every one of our people and the people of Earth at risk!"

"Genocide is out of the question. We can capture them...keep them locked up," Optimus tried.

"Leaving the rest of the universe to wonder where they went and why we would do such a thing? The questions would be just as good as a full Quint confession," Rodimus snarled.

"It is better than the alternative," Optimus stated.

"I will NOT let your squeamishness cost us everything! You and I don't get the luxury of clean hands Optimus!" Rodimus said, very quietly, holding out his.

"We must be the example to our people," Optimus said.

"Oh I am," Rodimus rumbled, deep in his chest, "and then I do what I have to do when they aren't looking!"

"Genocide is out of the question.," Optimus repeated, and then the combat really took off.

Optimus suggested various alternatives and alternate variations on his "lock them up" idea and Rodimus proceeded to then tear apart his every argument and counter-argument, leaving Optimus stunned on numerous planes. He and Rodimus had been sparring verbally for years, but it had become almost a ritual, a game, with the objective being that the Autobots would win no matter who "won". This time though, Rodimus' mercurial flairs of annoyance and humor were replaced by a laser-like, icy style which showed no emotional variation at all. This creature went after its goal with an unvarying ruthlessness Optimus couldn't find a hold on. Op's moral/emotion based arguments meant nothing to this soulless creature which stared at him with Rodimus' face. It cruelly slaughtered Optimus' most heartfelt beliefs with frigid practicality, and one by one, with visible reluctance, the others began changing sides.

Marissa sighed with disgust and sided with Rodimus long before the others did. She wasn't happy about it, and she was even less happy with the way Rodimus treated his partner, something she expressed with evil glares at Rodimus whenever he said something particularly viscous. However, Marissa was human, and an army brat as well. She had less illusions about mortality, and time. It was very easy for Optimus to think they would find another way if they searched long enough, but Marissa knew they probably didn't have long enough. It was also easier for her to accept the deaths of her enemies, because, as a human, she had to accept it in her friends, her parents, and even herself. Death wasn't the great abomination to her that it was to the other members of the counsel. It was a natural part of life, and certainly a part of war.

Magnus seemed quite shocked at first when she sided with the lunatic, but the lunatic was making more and more valid points to which Optimus only had "But Autobots don't DO that kind of thing" for an answer. Then again, he had seen this side of Rodimus before so it wasn't the shock for Magnus that it was for Optimus. Optimus surely felt that they had lost Rodimus, the real Rodimus forever, and Magnus sensed half of Optimus' arguments stemmed from a frantic attempt to reclaim Rodimus' soul.

Magnus was only too aware that the "real" Rodi was there, hiding somewhere under the cold, practical assassin, and surely suffering as much as Optimus did over the very idea of killing off an entire race. Not to mention saying such terrible things to his partner and friend. Magnus also knew that the assassin was Rodimus' weapon of very last resort. Rodimus hated it, and never, ever unleashed it unless there was absolutely no other choice. Rodimus wouldn't have even suggested this if he hadn't thought it through. In a strange way, Magnus trusted this side of Rodimus, for it represented the terrible extremes the boy would go to for all of them. Optimus on the other hand, was just having a reflexive reaction to a concept he found distasteful.

Magnus sighed audibly, and cast his vote with Rodimus.

Eventually, Jazz did the same, but he hid his face in his arms and refused to speak afterwards.

Elita strangely never once said she was siding either way, even at first. She fired more and more complicated questions at Rodimus, demanding more detail and insight into the situation since she had been "out of the game for a while."

Optimus knew he was defeated when he suddenly realized she was trying to find a solution for him. She was pouring all of her brilliant insight into the problem so that she could supply an alternative plan to Rodimus'. Optimus' heart both leapt and sank. He could see she was desperate to help him, to give his ideals support in the practical universe. He was so grateful for her efforts, but it also meant that in a way, she was already siding with Rodimus. She saw the need for an immediate solution, and was trying valiantly to supply one that met their needs AND his ideals. Optimus knew she loved him. He knew she shared his beliefs. He also knew that when she couldn't find a workable answer, that the leader in her would side with Rodimus. Elita One hadn't survived, without allies, on a world full of enemies, with only a few under-nourished warriors on ideals alone. Not even her love for him would allow her to ignore what needed to be done....and Rodimus made it more clear by the second this needed to be done.

Optimus spared his beloved the pain of "betraying" him, and relented. He didn't know what he expected from his partner at this surrender, some softening perhaps, some glint of emotion or friendship. He got nothing. Rodimus simply stared coldly a moment and left on silent, hurried feet to prepare.

"Don't let him go alone," Optimus said to Magnus and Jazz.

"We won't," Magnus said, "and don't worry. We'll get him back as soon as the killing is done. This is just his way of coping."

Optimus only shook his head. His entire air was one of defeat. They left him sitting there in silence and went to catch up with Rodimus.


	3. Chapter 3

**Maelstrom 5**

**Elita: Part 3**

Author's note: This story is part of a LONG series called Maelstrom. It is strictly Gen. 1 - sorry, but that was all that was out when I started writing back in the late 1980's. It began as a fan-publication so the first chapters are in the form of a **comic book**! If you have not read the nine original **Maelstrom Comics** and the preceding text stories, I strongly suggest you do. This is a complex universe. They can be found at http// illmatar. deviantart. com (I have put double spaces between the addy here or FF . Net eats the link.) The comics and art which accompanies this series are there...and believe me I am a better artist than writer.

**Most chapters of this series contain strong language and violence. Rated M for adult themes! Really! Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Critiques adored!**

A few days later, Magnus was wondering if he hadn't spoken too soon. Rodimus had been plainly unhappy with the company, but that was the feeling side of him that didn't want them hurt or frightened. The assassin had reign though, and he knew they would make things go more smoothly. He decided not to drug or ditch them and took them on a five week horror show the likes of which neither of them had even seen in all their years of steady combat. Even Marissa (who had stubbornly insisted on going) was looking ill by the end of the first day. She - who had examined corpse after frozen, mangled corpse with clinical detachment that day on the Gryphon.

They all had seen death before, but never like this.

They had all seen cruelty before, but never like this.

None of them had any love for the Quints but ...!

Rodimus had unleashed everything he had learned in the year he'd been missing. Violence, torture, merciless hate, and he merged all of that with the deadly skills and survival instincts he'd picked up from a hunted human assassin.

It was slaughter. Not battle. Slaughter.

When they found the first Quint ship he first pulled out a strange little hexagon shaped device, attached it to their shuttle's communications array, and somehow hacked into the Quint's computers from there. They saw he went after the Quints communication system and transmitted some kind of signal, but they couldn't tell what he did. Whatever it was must have worked though, because the Quint vessel never even charged up its lasers. Rodimus then hamstrung the drifting ship by targeting the engines, having already made it clear to his team that he wanted the Quints alive....at least until they told him where to find the others. With the ship disabled, he could have simply blown the whole thing to dust right then and there, but he wanted to talk to the Quintissons first.

They pulled up alongside the disable cruiser and he had gone aboard almost before they'd really latched on. The Quints were already off-balance from the start at the ferocious way the Autobot shuttle attacked them without provocation, and the way it pursued them when they tried to retreat.

The Autobots tractored onto the Quints ship and cut a hole in the hull. All of them were prepared to kill both Quints and Sharkticons alike, and thought they were prepared for what Rodimus intended to do. Magnus in particular had made up his mind to not let the work of Rodi's assassin mode disturb him, but he miscalculated the changes in Rodimus' fighting style and attitude. They had all seen Rodimus fight since his return, but none had ever seen him use what he'd learned as a human in open combat. He had hidden the depths of his newly learned skill the way he hid everything else.

What they really weren't expecting was the music.

Every speaker on board was transmitting Terran dance music at high volume, and much to the consternation of Magnus, Marissa, and Jazz, every one of the lower ranked Sharkticons was cheerfully dancing away. Whatever the music ordered them to do, they did, and seemed pretty happy doing it. None of them paid the Autobots the slightest attention. They boarded the ship mostly uncontested, except by the occasional single faced Quint. These were easy to take out because they were distracted trying to get the dancing Sharks to take on the invaders.

It should have been funny. It WAS funny, but Rodimus displayed none of his usual smugness when one of his crazy ideas worked like this.

They came across the landing bay where roughly two hundred Sharkticons were whirling into each other like balls in a lottery machine. Rodimus threw an arm out to keep Magnus from going in and threw six concussion grenades onto the dance floor, one after another.

Magnus and Jazz stared at each other and then threw themselves to the ground in the corridor outside. Magnus put himself between the open doorway and Marissa. Rodimus simply stood to the left of the door, flattened against the wall. When the flames and debris quit flooding from inside the landing bay, he stepped inside without waiting for the others. They heard his rifle reporting before they even picked themselves off the floor.

The music went on.

Once up and back in the large room they had to face the carnage.

Almost all of the Sharkticons were dead. The few that were still moving were incredibly still dancing, or trying to dance. Rodimus walked up to them and shot them in the head one at a time.

The next section was a bit more difficult. The Quints had regained control of their speakers and had finally cut off the music.

Some of the Sharkticons kept dancing anyway, but most actually noticed they had targets and attacked. Rodimus advanced without changing pace. He cut down Sharkticons the way a reaper cuts wheat, mostly with his bare hands. One after another they fell and he would be on to the next one before the last corpse hit the ground. He used some kind of flash grenade the few times he got cornered, and there were moments his team swore he disappeared completely from the battle - only to find him in a different part of the room.

Marissa made some facetious remark about feeling even more superfluous than usual, and Magnus could only grunt consent. Shooting and smashing their way through the Sharks proved just as effective as always for them - meaning that Rodimus brought down five for every one of theirs, and the ones he touched stayed down. Even now, Magnus and especially Jazz had a hard time making their shots lethal. They knew it had to be done, but it wasn't easy to change the combat habits of an Autobot's lifetime. Not killing was instinctive which only made it harder when they wounded a Sharkticon to the point of helplessness and had to follow up with a lethal hit.

Marissa actually accounted for as many of the slain as Magnus and Jazz, and she did it more efficiently. A glance at her face just after she killed another Sharkticon, showed Magnus a tight-lipped, grim expression. In a way, Magnus sensed, she was like Rodimus. She had made up her mind this had to be done and was now just going to do it the best she could. Maybe the primitive instincts of her animal ancestors were helping her set aside her higher reasoning - letting her fall into a "kill or be killed" frame of mind. Magnus envied her focus. Seeing Rodimus in action didn't help the City Commander set aside anything - it merely illuminated just how savage Rodimus had become, and just how far he had dragged Magnus and the others with him.

The Autobot's leader fought as no Transformer, Autobot or Decepticon had ever fought. He fought like a human - a mortal, savage creature with only one chance to survive - the death of all that faced him. His body flowed like poison; every motion seemed to cut down an opponent. His hands, his feet, the point of his elbow, the width of his body - all of these were weapons of death. The Sharkticons couldn't seem to touch him. He seemed to wait for every blow, only to divert it harmlessly away from himself with the lift of an arm or the simple shift of his weight. The worst part for those watching though, was the calm, casual way he went about this slaughter. He showed no feeling - not even battle-anger. He might as well been swatting flies.

It sickened Magnus.

Suddenly it seemed there were no more Sharkticons to contend with. The corpses lay everywhere. Magnus, Marissa, and Jazz looked about them in stunned amazement, but Rodimus didn't pause. He took off silently down the corridor towards the command center of the ship.

The others could hear the Quints screaming long before they caught up with him.

There were three Quintisons on the bridge. By the time Magnus burst through the door with Jazz, two of them lay dead. They each had a long needle-like piece of metal through a face and into the brain. Magnus recognized the needles from his own near miss with Rodi's assassin self. Even impalement shouldn't have killed them so quickly, leaving the Autobots to suspect their leader had employed some from of toxin as well. From their locations and the stunned looks on the dead ones' faces, they had been killed just as Rodimus had entered the room.

The screaming came from the last Quint.

"Where are the others?" Rodimus said, his voice finally reflecting some anger, some disgust at this enemy. For some reason the other 'Bots found that slightly comforting.

"NO!" The Quint cried in terror - Rodimus held another needle to the eye of its Death face. "How do I know you'll let me live?"

"I won't......but I might kill you quickly," Rodimus said in a whisper. He severed one tentacle at the tip and repeated his question, working his way higher by two inches every time he didn't receive an answer.

"YOU AREN'T AN AUTOBOT! YOU AREN'T AN AUTOBOT!" the Quint screamed in pure terror. "AUTOBOTS DON'T DO THIS! AUTOBOTS _CAN'T_ DO THIS!"

"Things change," Rodimus said, still whispering. The others couldn't know that he was teetering precariously close to the whirlwind insanity of the torture chamber, and was having a hard time uttering any sound at all. The Quintison seemed to somehow sense this, and felt his terror multiply exponentially. It rambled things about corrupted programming, Galvatron, and madness.

Magnus snorted, "You'd better get to the point or you're going to lose another two inches." The Quint looked from Magnus, to Rodimus, and back again. It realized that while the others were very disturbed by what they were seeing, they weren't going to intervene. Then it cracked - giving Rodimus the location of two Quint strongholds.

Rodimus nodded and stabbed the Quint's nearest head. This time though, he slanted the needle upward, missing most of the Quint's sectional brain, and leaving it dying...slowly. The needle was coated with a toxin of a slightly different nature than the others as well, but the Quint didn't know that. All it knew was that its brain felt like it was on fire.

"Let's go," Rodimus said, letting the Quint drop.

Magnus, already sickened by the Quint's screams, moved up to kill it, but Rodimus stopped him with a glare and a curt shake of the head. The City Commander paused on the brink of challenging his leader, but recognized the brittle green glare too well. Still, it wasn't easy to follow the noiseless wraith with Rodimus' shape back to the ship with the screams of the Quint following them down the corridors - multiplying as they echoed on the walls. It was as if some evil spirit had replaced Rodimus, mimicking the form but not the soul. He was the only one of them that didn't shudder as the reverberating screams chased them back to the shuttle. Magnus remember well Rodimus' assertion that in some ways it was as though the Jabez had Converted him - it never seemed truer than at this moment.

The closing shuttle doors cut off the screams - not, unfortunately their memories or imaginations.

Rodimus piloted the shuttle away from the Quint ship until they were just out of visual range. Then, inexplicably, he stopped.

"Why?" Magnus asked, "Aren't you done yet?"

"No," Rodimus answered in a monotone. "That Quint didn't tell us everything. It thinks it's dying. It thinks I expect it to die. In a few moments the toxin on its needle will mostly run its course. It will count its blessings and run for help. We will see where it goes since it will surely NOT pick the bases it told us about. It knows I will be there soon."

"My God," Marissa whispered. Magnus and Jazz would have liked to say something similar, but had only the Jabez, the Quints, and Vector Sigma to thank for their existence.

"I'm converting to human religion," Magnus stated.

"Amen," Jazz said as he slid down the wall and buried his face in his arms.

Rodimus did not appear to hear them - or at least he didn't respond. Magnus half-expected the young Prime to try to calm or reassure them. Rodimus was usually so conscious of the morale of his people, and Magnus knew most of his usual cavalier cheerfulness was directed towards that goal - which, the City Commander reflected, was probably the only reason he hadn't strangled Rodimus long ago. The boy was silly, but it was silliness with a useful purpose. This time though, Rodimus appeared oblivious to his friends' distress. He watched the monitors with the same set, focused expression with which he'd just killed all of those beings. Magnus looked at Marissa's pale face, and at Jazz shuddering in the corner. He couldn't blame them. Right now even he was wishing Rodimus would say or do something which would make them all feel better about what they'd just done - or at least to show them that Rodi hadn't really lost his mind.

"Man, I feel dirty and I don't think a wash and wax job is gonna help," Jazz said with a groan.

"No, it's going to take a detailing this time Jazz," Marissa said with a faintly hysterical laugh.

"I suggest a thorough sanding and an entire new paint job," Magnus said flatly, although he was watching Rodimus. Their leader, usually the one to joke, didn't even look when Jazz gave way to a pained laughter that bordered on hysterics as well. It was an extreme, but viable coping mechanism which lost none of its usefulness because they KNEW it was a coping mechanism.

They needed it - especially when the monitors showed the Quint ship was moving and Rodimus steered their shuttle to shadow it.

"What if it sees us?" Marissa asked Rodi after a while of following the racing Quint ship.

"It won't. The toxin should have given it just enough coherence to set the coordinates and the auto-pilot. It's laying on the floor right now. It may even die before the ship reaches its destination. It doesn't matter as long as we get where were going."

"What happens then?" Magnus asked.

"We survey the place and start over," Rodimus said, as if it were obvious.

And they did.


	4. Chapter 4

**Maelstrom 5**

**Elita: Part 4**

Author's note: This story is part of a LONG series called Maelstrom. It is strictly Gen. 1 - sorry, but that was all that was out when I started writing back in the late 1980's. It began as a fan-publication so the first chapters are in the form of a **comic book**! If you have not read the nine original **Maelstrom Comics** and the preceding text stories, I strongly suggest you do. This is a complex universe. They can be found at http// illmatar. deviantart. com (I have put double spaces between the addy here or FF . Net eats the link.) The comics and art which accompanies this series are there...and believe me I am a better artist than writer.

**Most chapters of this series contain strong language and violence. Rated M for adult themes! Really! Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Critiques adored!**

By the end of the first week they all thought they were as sickened as one could possibly get without going mad. They had watched Rodimus roll, jump, kick, slice, and shoot his way through hundreds of Sharkticons and Quintisons with the fluid grace of a dancer, and the cold eyes of a viper. ..not to mention the others they killed themselves. Magnus and Marissa had a few private conversations about whether or not Rodimus had already past the point of madness.

Magnus, remembering the sadistic side of Rodimus he'd seen in the tunnels, had serious doubts about his young friend's sanity.

Marissa, not knowing about that, and thinking of the Sweep Rodi had killed by accident a few short months ago, disagreed. "We all knew this had to be done, Magnus, and he's doing the bulk of the dirty work. I think it's his way of protecting us from getting our hands so bloody. As for his lack of emotion, I think that's just how he's dealing with this - like the way we make jokes."

"_Rodimus_ usually makes the jokes," Magnus countered grimly.

"Magnus, you know and I know that's just a tool for him. Besides, I'll bet anything he thinks if he cracks at all, or lets himself get the slightest bit distracted that he'll break. When this is over, judge his response then."

"I suppose you're right," Magnus mused. "Either that or you're just hoping he'll finish what he's started before we decide to lock him up."

Marissa smiled bitterly, "That too. But to be honest Magnus, you'd better hope he hasn't really lost it because I'm not sure you can lock him up!"

Magnus groaned, remembering how swiftly Rodimus had gotten through locked doors, encrypted data-bases, and all the Quints' security systems. He was forced to agree with her.

By the end of the third week, they were running out of leads, but they were also running out of time. The Quints didn't know who was hunting them, but Rodi's team was meeting stronger resistance now because the ships and bases were on alert. Rodimus could see to it that word of the attacks never got out while they were there, but the Quints knew when they lost contact with their fellows, and surely someone had reported to them about the carnage.

Any doubt of the Quint/Jabez connection was ended when one terrified Quint saw Rodimus coming and began screaming that the Jabez had Converted him and were coming to destroy them all. The Quint was a high ranking officer, the kind Rodimus usually spared for questioning, but for some reason, no one was too surprised when this particular Quint hit the floor.

"You had it half right," Rodimus said to the corpse in his cold whisper. He then took the entire rest of the Quints on the base alive and got more than the next location out of them.

They told him his people's history.

They told him of a mad Jabez who wanted immortality.

They told him of the brilliantly designed crystalline computer, unprecedented even among the Jabez. Vector Sigma.

They told him that the mad alien had wanted his project hidden even from "The Game", although the Quints could not tell Rodimus what "The Game" really was.

They told Rodimus instead that the Mad-One had given them basic robotic designs and the blue-prints for a factory world in exchange for their services in building his prototype while he went back to refine the designs even further in secret. What they did with these designs was up to them, as long as they provided him with the best version they could produce when he finally came to claim it. Apparently his plan was to build a system sophisticated enough to hold his own consciousness, and the unlimited knowledge he craved, and then to implant that system into an immortal, robotic body.

They told Rodimus, very reluctantly even in the face of his madness, of their betrayal. They had altered Vector Sigma, the Jabez's prototype, very slightly. The intent was to be able to control the Jabez once he downloaded his mind. They didn't expect the Jabez to return for many centuries, and they hoped to seed Vector Sigma with carefully hidden programing that would allow them to enslave the Jabez for his vast knowledge so that they could use his genius for profit. In the mean time, they made fortunes with the sales of early Cybertronians.

They didn't suspect their toying had awakened Vector Sigma to sentient life. Meant to hold a living mind, it teetered on the brink of self-awareness until their alterations pushed it over the edge.

They really didn't expect it to begin passing that sentience on to the body shells they used it to program.

The rebellion was quite an eye-opener and the Quints had been desperate ever since to reclaim Cybertron and correct their mistake before Vector Sigma's creator came to claim it. For some reason he never did return and for a while, they thought they were safe. Then, after millions of years, another, unfamiliar Jabez had contacted them. They could tell from his carefully worded demands that he knew something about the Mad-One's research, but not everything. Still, when he had demanded a "sample" they knew they had no choice but to comply. The very fact that he was asking instead of simply coming in and Converting the Quintisons who had originally dealt with the Mad-One told them the depth of his ignorance about anything but the most general details. Still, they also knew the Jabez were capable of coming after all of them if they felt the need - it was merely simpler to ask first.

In an effort to pacify the Jabez and stall for time, the Quints had sent the requested "samples". Rodimus and Astrotrain. Goldbug had not been a target - merely an accident. The Quint which told Rodimus that little tidbit of information summarily had its head crushed.

The others lost a lot of coherence after that, rambling that all further efforts to get to Vector Sigma had failed, and begging for mercy.

"What do the Jabez want with Earth?" Rodimus asked.

"Earth is theirs!" one Quint cried. "It has always been theirs! It's a breeding colony for slaves!"

"Humans," Rodimus grated.

"Slaves!" the Quint cried, "Just as you were meant to be slaves! They designed you all from the same basic blueprint! The humans came first! The Mad-One basically wanted the same creature in a metal skin! You are the same species in everything but substance! Why else would you look and act so much alike?"

Rodimus sneered,"Well, Quint. Your own greed took care of that. Did you know that amongst my fellow 'slaves' on Earth, that greed is a deadly sin?" He then proceeded slaughtering, and for once the other Autobots weren't too upset. Magnus and Jazz were busy concentrating on Marissa, who was looking ghostly pale. Having been through something similar recently, they guessed only too well what she was feeling.

Week four found them on the borders of a Quint stronghold too big to tackle.

"Contact Optimus," the Rodimus-like figure at the helm told Magnus. "Tell him we need him and Elita to join us for this."

Magnus only nodded, but he threw Marissa a look which told her how much he was looking forward to this duty. Marissa acknowledged it with one of complete sympathy - none of them liked what they were doing, and none of them were so insensitive as to want any others to suffer with them. Marissa was more certain than ever that this was what motivated Rodi's silence, and she was grateful, in retrospect, that he had tried to keep her in the dark. She was in so much pain now. She didn't know how she could look at her friends, her family, or her world the same way again. Not knowing had _seemed_ intolerable. Knowing really was.

x

x

x

Magnus went to the communications center Rodimus had set up in the back of the shuttle since the regular communicators weren't "good for shit," as Rodimus had so delicately described it. He sent out a signal which told Optimus to drop what he was doing and head for the Council chamber. Then Optimus was the one to open a channel between them that created a whole new definition of the word "secure." Even the touch of the alleged "thought frequencies" would instantly sever the connection. Somehow Magnus worried anyway.

He saw Optimus scan him, just as he was scanning Optimus in return. Somehow, Magnus doubted he would ever get used to that moment of terror before the results came up negative, but for once the City Commander didn't feel too much relief. It was hard, right now, to regard Optimus as his commander. Instead he saw a friend who would soon be hurt by what Magnus had to ask him to do.

"Rodimus says we need you and Elita for backup on this base," Magnus intoned, sending the coordinates and diagrams of the base for Optimus to study on the way.

"I see," Optimus said gravely, looking at the specs. At a glance, he would have said Rodimus would have been better off sending for Metroplex, but knew that was impossible. He also wasn't too pleased about all the lying and juggling he was going to have to do to prepare his people for many days without any of the senior staff. He would have to leave Kup in charge, and dance around the suspicious old warrior's very intelligent, pertinent concerns.

Noticing the look on his normally stoic City Commander, he then turned his mind back to the business at hand.

"How is it going?" Optimus asked.

"We have destroyed 8 installations and close to fifty cruisers, as well as numerous smaller ships. No serious casualties...on our side.... Sir. We've all taken some minor injuries, but they were all easily repaired...except for Marissa of course. She says she's fine."

Optimus looked measuringly at his City Commander. Ultra Magnus seemed... nervous.

"How are you all holding up?" Optimus asked, noting as he did that Magnus actually flinched.

"Our energon reserves are well stocked Sir. We take power from the installations as we raid them," Magnus said tightly.

Optimus stared at him some more. "That wasn't what I was asking Magnus."

Magnus' over-stressed mind strategized for a moment and came up with, "Oh?"

"Oh," Optimus said, speaking as sternly as if he were addressing a raw recruit caught playing on watch. "You know what I'm asking! Out with it! That's an order."

"Well, um..you see, it's been..er...stressful ...for all of us. And um... well...we learned some things about our...err...designer, and our builders... and...um....yes. I think that had best wait until you get here."

"Magnus..." Optimus interrupted, only to be ignored.

"We learned some things about Earth too, but I can't tell you that over a channel either."

"Magnus..." Optimus tried again.

"I'm thinking of trying out a Terran religion. Don't you think that might be a good idea? I'm feeling the need for some kind of foundation right now for some reason and...."

"MAGNUS!" Optimus roared, a little alarmed.

"Prime?"

"What I want to know is how you are all holding up under the pressure, but obviously you aren't doing very well at all. Is it the killing? I was afraid this would happen. Autobots just aren't meant for this sort of thing."

"Umm, yes. Well," Magnus said, and then gave up at the look on Optimus' face. Magnus could sense an order coming a parsect out. "The worst part...is, well, its that WE haven't done all that much killing. Really not much more than a regular battle anyway."

"But....how...? Oh. Rodimus."

Magnus opted to keep his mouth shut, noting as he did that Elita had entered Prime's office and was listening in. He scanned her, and noted she was no longer surprised by that habit. Magnus also noted, with some sadness, that she scanned her beloved mate at the same time she returned Magnus' scan. Elita learned fast.

"How is he?" Optimus asked gravely - meaning both Rodimus' physical and emotional condition.

"How is he doing it?" Magnus responded, hoping (again) to divert Rodi's concerned partner. Sometimes he wished Optimus was more of a hard-cold-facts kind of warrior. "Let's just say Lancer taught him more than we ever suspected. Robots just shouldn't move like that! You'd think he was made out of liquid except for the dents he causes when he puts his hand through something. You'll see when you get here."

"Magnus, did anyone ever tell you you're bad at evading the subject?" Optimus asked.

Magnus sighed. "Marissa," he grumbled, "numerous times."

"So why do you bother?" Elita asked softly, with just a hint of a wry smile. "And who's Lancer?"

"Because I don't know how to answer Optimus' question." Magnus said, ignoring Elita's question about Lancer all together. If Optimus wanted her to know, then Optimus could bloody well explain it! The City Commander went on in a rush, "How is he? Who knows? I'm not even sure if 'he' is with us right now. He doesn't talk to us except to bark orders in the least possible number of words. He doesn't smile. He doesn't frown. Does this sound like Rodimus to you? He just goes about his business - very efficiently killing Sharkticons, torturing Quints for information and then killing them too. Marissa thinks this is just his way of dealing with it. I think he's losing his mind. I don't know what Jazz thinks - I suspect he's too busy trying not to lose his own mind to worry much about Rodi's."

"Great Cybertron...." Optimus whispered, using the oath of choice amongst the command staff these days.

"Come quickly Optimus. See for yourself what's going on. I don't know what to tell you about him or any of us. Maybe you can see something that will make me feel better about what I've seen recently, because right now I'm just afraid."

Optimus and his mate exchanged glances, knowing it took a great deal for Ultra Magnus to admit that he was frightened. It was Elita who answered him.

"We'll be there very soon," she said, and then they broke the connection to prepare.

It still took two days for Elita and Optimus to reach their coordinates, during which time Marissa and the others expected Rodimus to unbend just a little. He didn't. Two solid days with nothing to do, and Rodimus still didn't speak or even move much. There were moments when they found him sitting in the pilot's seat so still he hardly seemed alive. Then again, even when he turned his head to look at them he hardly seemed alive. They had all seen corpses with more expression. Jazz in particular seemed distressed by that, and Marissa's arguments in defense of Rodi's sanity seemed to hold less and less conviction to Magnus.

When Optimus' shuttle locked with theirs, and the senior Prime and Elita disembarked, Rodimus barely acknowledged either of them. There was certainly no warm greeting. Instead he began telling them what he expected them to do in the coming raid. He made no pretenses about asking his partner's opinion first - just gave orders in the same curt voice he'd been using since the mission began. Jazz and Magnus could tell Optimus was appalled, although he covered it well. Elita One merely looked at Rodimus curiously, with her head cocked to one side as she studied him from head to toe. She showed none of her mate's distress, only an intense interest in both Rodi's orders and the manner in which he gave them. Marissa faintly imagined she could hear Elita's mind scrutinizing Rodi's every word.

"Is this how Lancer taught you to deal with this kind of mission?" Elita asked Rodimus the instant he was done barking instructions at her. Her voice held no condemnation or sarcasm - only curiosity and compassion. At this point even Optimus gave the impression of having his mouth hanging open. Those who had been with Rodimus on this mission were wondering if they were about to see Elita brutally murdered.

Rodimus froze so completely that for an instant the others were afraid he was having one of those mysterious "attacks" he'd been having lately where all of his systems shut down entirely. He continued to stare at Elita though, and he didn't begin to grey down. Then for an even briefer instant some emotion flickered across his face and vanished before any of them could even classify it.

"Lancer..." he said, "would have called my plan inadequate because it calls for death. Then she would have helped me carry it out. There is no way to 'deal' with this. Let's just get it over with."

Elita continued to study Rodimus, tilting her head slightly the other direction while she analyzed his phrasing. Somewhere in the back of Rodimus' mind, the suppressed side of him which still felt had that good old sinking sensation it always felt when it recognized trouble ahead. The assassin side recognized a kind of threat in Elita - a threat to its secrets. It began readying defenses.

They continued to stare at each other probingly - Optimus' partner and his mate. All the while Optimus mentally cursed Elita for being so blunt, and Magnus cursed Rodi for being so damned fast. Optimus was wondering how he could minimize the tension that seemed to be forming between Rodi and Elita, while Magnus was trying to think of a way to protect her if Rodimus decided to kill her.

"Well," Elita said lightly, "if that's how you feel about it, let's get to work."

Rodimus stared at her a moment longer, and then left the room to get started. Jazz gave an audible sigh of relief and even Marissa looked a bit shaken, for all that she was the advocate for Rodi's sanity. Optimus stared at all of them, reading their body language in amazed terror. They had been afraid Rodimus would hurt his mate! It was beyond comprehension! He resolved to never tell Elita that - he didn't want her to be suspicious of Rodimus - not if they were going to work together. They had to trust each other. Then Elita looked at him and smiled ever so slightly...and Optimus knew she already knew how close she'd come.

"I decided to bait him," Elita said, "and from what you told me, Lancer is just about the worst thing I could have mentioned to him. He's fine Orion. If he'd really cracked, he would have killed me."


	5. Chapter 5

**Maelstrom 5**

**Elita: Part 5**

Author's note: This story is part of a LONG series called Maelstrom. It is strictly Gen. 1 - sorry, but that was all that was out when I started writing back in the late 1980's. It began as a fan-publication so the first chapters are in the form of a **comic book**! If you have not read the nine original **Maelstrom Comics** and the preceding text stories, I strongly suggest you do. This is a complex universe. They can be found at http// illmatar. deviantart. com (I have put double spaces between the addy here or FF . Net eats the link.) The comics and art which accompanies this series are there...and believe me I am a better artist than writer.

**Most chapters of this series contain strong language and violence. Rated M for adult themes! Really! Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Critiques adored!**

Rodimus might not be completely out of control, but when they hit the base Optimus fully understood why his City Commander was at a loss for words, and why there were doubts about Rodimus. Still, now that Elita's little "test" was over, Optimus thought that at least some of Magnus' doubts weren't so much from the killing as the manner in which Rodimus did it. The fighting style was so devastating and so alien it was easy to miss the fact that Rodimus was simply doing what he had to do. Optimus doubted if they would have worried so much if Rodimus had simply been shooting the enemy the way they were used to. For some reason, the use of his hands made it seem more cruel, even though his opponents often fell without even realizing he was upon them.

Maybe it was the silence which made it so unnerving. Transformers were naturally a noisy species, and often made it worse with a lot of pointless shouting and insulting during combat. Half the time, the Autobots seemed to take the verbal warfare even more seriously than the physical - complaining for months about what this or that Decepticon had the gall to say rather than the injuries they inflicted. Rodimus' ghostly pace was nearly noiseless - unheard of for his kind, and he himself made no sound, even when something did manage to hurt him.

Surely, that was what upset Magnus and the others. For himself, Optimus stubbornly tried to forget that they weren't in just another battle, they were exterminating a species.

He wasn't surprised that he felt unclean participating in this, for all he knew it meant survival for Cybertron and Earth, and couldn't blame Jazz, Marissa, or Magnus for being distressed. Watching Rodimus kill and kill did cause a sort of surreal feeling in Optimus who was having a hard time reconciling this merciless assassin with his young, compassionate partner. Optimus resolved not to let the fight instill doubts about Rodimus in him...after all, Rodimus was only doing what Optimus had asked of him the day the boy had taken the Matrix.... the best he could for their people. He had to keep his trust in his partner. He had to.

The Sharkticon lines broke suddenly, but for some reason Magnus and the others showed no relief or triumph. Jazz in particular looked very ready to be somewhere else when Rodimus flowed like magma into the command center of the base.

Then the questioning began, and all of Optimus' comforting rationalizations dissolved in the first five minutes.

Optimus actually felt sorry for the Quints....for five minutes.

Rodimus got the answers he wanted out of them very quickly actually - there was more threat involved than actual torture - those cold green eyes, and the Quint's own imaginations were more than sufficient to draw the information out of them, and Optimus made careful note that Rodi pressed every advantage to its fullest before actually touching one of the captives. They couldn't fill in any more details about the Jabez though, and the Autobots already knew the locations of the only remaining strongholds. What they did tell Rodimus went a long way towards alleviating the painful sympathy the Autobots were feeling for their enemies.

The Quints had a captive of their own. They told Rodimus what had been done to the victim and why. Rodimus demanded details, and by the time the Quints were done giving them, Optimus was sickened for an entirely different reason.

It was beyond cruel. And yet the Quints were motivated by the same thing that drove Rodimus now - survival. "When," Optimus wondered, "does the price of life become too high? We think this is necessary. They thought what they did was necessary. Where do we draw the line? Is it only a matter of degree?"

When he was done with them, Rodimus killed the prisoners with a single clean laser through the brain. Then he headed towards the detention ward.

He strode down the sterile halls, through the chemical ridden air, and stopped at the door to the first cell where the Quints had told him he would find their prisoner. They had taken this individual as a gift from Galvatron. The Decepticon leader had seen it as fit punishment for an imagined betrayal. The Quints had taken it as an opportunity to research a specimen of Vector Sigma's programing risk free. No one would be trying to rescue Blitzwing.

They had taken the defiant Decepticon and begun a series of psychological tests which became more extreme and more bizarre as the Quints grew more desperate for answers. They had felt the Jabez breathing down their necks, and taken it out on Blitzwing in an effort to understand the consciousness Vector Sigma had imparted on him. It was a long shot and the Quints knew it, but they had no other recourse. They couldn't afford the time or resources to get into combat with the Decepticons, let alone the entrenched Autobots - not with the Jabez scrutinizing their every move. Sending Rodimus and Astrotrain had bought them some breathing space but not much. The Jabez were likely to ask for Vector Sigma at any moment, and the Quints had nothing to deliver. Worse, the Quints still didn't know what had gone wrong with the Super Computer. Even if they had gotten access to it years of study were probably required to understand it - years the Quints didn't have. Therefore they had sought desperately to get a head start by taking Blitzwing's mind apart; anything to gain the slightest insight into the computer which had made Blitzwing an individual.

The room was a holo-chamber. Rodimus, Jazz, and Magnus recognized it only too well.

The shuddering lump of metal in the corner was beyond recognition.

It was the first time in days that Rodimus showed any kind of real emotion, although the others wouldn't have chosen the refined hatred which crossed his face. Optimus, Marissa, and Elita were appalled by the transformation in Rodimus' features, although Magnus and Jazz had seen this before in the tunnels. He seemed transfixed by his rage.

Elita instinctively went forward to help Blitzwing and the Decepticon gave an incoherent moan which got louder as she approached until it became an ear-rending wail. Blitzwing began flailing wildly around himself while she was still yards away.

"Stay away from him Elita," Rodimus said suddenly, quietly.

"But...." she began.

"Stay away from him. He doesn't know what's real and what isn't. He's expecting to be hurt and he's likely to fight anything. Let me handle him - I've got the best chance of not getting hurt." He didn't need to mention other reasons why he might be best suited to handle a torture-victim.

Elita stepped back although Blitzwing continued shrieking, causing Marissa to clutch at her ears (a useless gesture in the Exo-suit.) Rodimus shook his head and kicked them all out in spite of Optimus' protests that he should have help. As a compromise, they left the door open so the others could hear Rodimus if he called them. The last thing they saw was Rodimus crouching low a good distance from the cowering Decepticon, and talking a in low, compassionate voice that seemed totally divorced from the merciless predator he'd become in the last few weeks.

"Hello Blitzwing. It's Rodimus Prime. Do you remember me.....?"

A few hours later, the wailing stopped.

A few hours after that, Rodimus emerged with a comatose Decepticon in his arms.

"I finally got close enough to sedate him," Rodimus explained, looking tired enough to pass out himself. "I still don't think he really knew whether or not I was real, but at least he's not so far gone that he will never trust again. It isn't going to be easy though. I...I don't remember...being such a handful."

"What do you mean 'remember', Rodimus? You're a handful now," Marissa said insolently. She didn't get the smile she hoped for.

Magnus stepped forward to relieve Rodimus of his burden and was surprised at Rodimus' slight reluctance handing Blitzwing over. He did though and sighed, seeming a good deal more like himself than he had recently.

"How long will he be out?" Optimus asked.

"I put a block on some of his synaptic circuits. He'll stay out until I take them off," Rodimus said.

"Is that safe?" Elita said in shock.

"Yes. It's the same thing I use on Metroplex when I upgrade his security systems," he answered, leaning on the wall and shutting his optics, thereby missing the evil glare Magnus threw him. Marissa and Jazz noticed though. Marissa openly chuckled and Jazz actually smiled a bit. Magnus turned the steaming looks on them and they grinned their appreciation. He sighed and stomped off to take Blitzwing to their shuttle's only holding cell.

"I don't even want to know where you got that thing do I?" Optimus asked his partner.

"Perceptor and KC made it for me, although they didn't know that's what they were making," Rodimus answered softly, the strain of the last hours on top of the grueling pace he had set for them all showed plainly in his voice.

"You should go recharge," Optimus said, then immediately cursed himself.

Rodi stiffened, and the assassin's masks fell over his face with a force that was nearly audible. "I have work to do," he said, and headed for the shuttle. Optimus put his forehead to the wall and groaned with frustration.

"Way to go, Man," Jazz said.

x

x

x

The next few days were a blur to Optimus as they were to Magnus and the rest. He had no illusions about being in control of this mission - not that he wanted any. The large base had been the last of the permanent Quint installations. Rodimus had tormented the entry codes out of one of the Quints, and confirmed the locations of the last remaining temp bases and ships. Optimus had left the now-dead base fully understanding Magnus' concern and the sick look on Jazz's face. He wondered what could ever clean his hands of his participation in this murderous escapade. He wondered if his partner would ever be himself again, and how Rodimus, as himself, would deal with what he had done.

The last ships fell one after the other with hardly a fight.

And when the last Quint dropped at Rodi's feet, the young Prime fell to his knees beside it - staring into space and shivering.

No one moved.

Elita looked at those around her. Jazz seemed beyond stricken, Optimus held back in wary suspicion, Marissa looked a bit concerned, but cautious, and Magnus had put on that unreadable mask. Well, she wasn't just going to let Rodimus sit there, especially not if she had guessed right about him.

"Rodi?" Elita asked, moving up behind him and putting a hand on his shoulder.

"ELITA DON'T!" Optimus cried as he saw her approaching Rodimus from behind - they had all seen Rodimus kill enemies without even turning his head to see where they were. Elita threw her mate a disgusted look as she touched his partner, who did nothing - not even twitch.

"It's over," she told him.

"Over," Rodimus echoed, "Over?" His voice was barely discernible, but even so it held more emotion than it had since they day they'd found the Quints in the tunnels.

"Yes," Elita said, kneeling down to be on his level, and seeing in his eyes all the anguish she had guessed at and more.

"I couldn't think of another way!" he told her in desperate apology. "I couldn't think of another way! I'm not that smart! I'm not that strong!" His voice was full of guilt, grief, and despair. Elita squeezed his hand.

Magnus threw up his hands in defeat. "Rodimus, you are the only being I know who can accomplish the eradication of an entire army nearly single-handed and then mourn them afterwards!"

Rodimus managed somehow to look even more hurt by that remark.

"I don't understand you," Magnus said, stomping off.

"Rodimus, are you alright?" Marissa asked, understanding Magnus' frustration even as she did so.

The question had the reverse effect intended. Marissa knew she had guessed right in that Rodimus had forced almost all of his emotions underground to see him through this terrible mission, and she had hoped to draw him out. Instead, she saw another mask fall into place the instant he saw her worrying about him. He smiled, sighed, and shrugged - the very image of his usual self - to the point Marissa immediately questioned whether even his most normal behavior was all a ruse.

"I'm just tired, that's all," Rodimus said - a story he stubbornly stuck with all the way home. In the mean time, he woke Blitzwing at intervals and worked with him. The Decepticon came back to reality slowly, and he remained openly afraid of the others for many days after he began to trust Rodimus. However, if the Quint holograms had one thing in common, it was that they invariably involved some kind of immediate terror or pain. The simple fact that Rodimus was showing nothing but calm compassion was enough for Blitzwing to know he was no longer in Quint hands. That mere realization did a lot to relax him, but he remained childishly easy to startle. Then came the moment Blitzwing realized that although Rodimus was an Autobot he really had no intention of hurting Blitz or turning him over to the Decepticons, and Blitzwing went from suspicious terror to absolute trust in one overwhelming second.

Rodimus didn't fully realize what had happened at first - he was just glad when Blitzwing allowed the others to approach him, something Blitzwing did because Rodimus said they wouldn't hurt him. After all, Rodimus had freed him. Rodimus had destroyed the Quints...all of them. Rodimus was the one who had first brought energon not laced with hallucinogenics or pain amplifiers. Rodimus was the one who seemed to understand everything Blitz was feeling. The Decepticon had no identity left - his leader had betrayed him and the Quints had deliberately destroyed all of his sense of self. Rodi's well-meaning compassion was the first non-threatening contact in a very long time for Blitzwing's vulnerable soul, and the gentleness Rodimus displayed towards the traumatized Decepticon had more than the effect intended. Rodimus did want Blitzwing to trust him, but instead he filled Blitz's hollow consciousness with an unquestioning, fanatical devotion that was anything but healthy.

What seemed like an amazing recovery at first was actually just a symptom of a psychotic form of hero-worship that Rodimus was in no condition to diagnose, let alone do something about. By the time any of them realized how obsessed Blitzwing was with "his savior", the obsession was already deeply entrenched. It would cause several incidents in the coming weeks where Blitzwing was ready to violently defend Rodimus from Autobots who questioned his judgment aloud (something Rodimus had been working very hard to encourage for years). Fortunately, Blitz's devotion also meant that when Rodimus said no fighting, Blitzwing made that part of his code of conduct. Unfortunately, it also meant that Blitzwing once again took it too far, and never defended himself even when it would have been justified.

It would be a real nightmare for the command staff - especially since Rodimus himself was getting very sick, very fast.

All of this would happen later though. On the trip back from the Quint Eradication, they were just glad that Blitzwing came out of his corner, spoke in sentences, seemed charmingly grateful for the rescue, and offered his assistance whenever possible.

Optimus agonized for a while, and then decided take the very long way home. He contacted Kup, who was irritable, but had everything (he knew about) under control. Optimus decided those on board needed a few days to calm down before re-shouldering their various duties, himself included.

He and Elita talked for hours the first night, and she helped him come to terms with what they had done. He marveled at her wisdom, and her strength, and she was able to give him many examples of things she had done to keep her isolated band alive which had worn on her conscience. It helped, and he asked, a little amazed, that she help the others if she could. She had laughed at him, and said she was already planning on it, but that as her mate, he came first. She then proceeded with a form of therapy that was, while very effective, something Optimus rather hoped she would reserve just for him.

x

x

x

The following day, Elita surveyed the various members of the command staff and tried to decide who to start with. Jazz was the most visibly upset, but in a way that seemed more healthy to Elita than what Magnus and Rodimus were doing. Elita didn't have much experience with humans but she didn't sense that Marissa really needed any help,. The female Autobot decided that if she tried to intervene with Marissa she might do more harm than good. Elita resolved to learn more about humans as soon as possible so that she wouldn't be faced with such uncertainty again. She had seen the EDC Captain in action during the raids and had liked what she'd seen. Marissa was calm, clear headed, and amazingly effective in combat even without allowing for her tiny size. Elita had always trusted Optimus' judgment that humans were worthy allies, but it was good to see things for yourself. It didn't hurt that Marissa also seemed to be a very good friend to those on board, Magnus in particular. Elita respected that. Magnus wasn't easy to be friends with and it took a strong person to see past all that gruff posturing that he seemed so devoted to projecting recently.

Elita sighed, remembering when it had been different.

She decided to wait a while on Jazz - at least he seemed to be venting his pain. Rodimus really worried her the most, but she didn't know much about him at all, and sensed she would have to tread very carefully with him. If nothing else, Rodimus was used to being hounded by the others about how he took, or rather failed to take care of himself, and he had the wary instincts of a hunted animal. Elita wanted some time to study him before she tried to unravel his layers of illusions and defenses. He was a puzzle which required more information, and Elita knew where to get it. Besides, in many ways, Magnus was coping the same way Rodimus was - by denying there was a problem, and Elita knew Magnus and his history better than Rodimus'.

She decided to start with what she was familiar with and left Rodimus to his work with Blitzwing. Instead, she sought out the brooding City Commander on the bridge of the ship. He had taken to spending most of his time there, pretending to be working on the information they'd gleaned from the Quints, but mostly just staring out the windows and growling at those who disturbed him.

"Ultra Magnus?" Elita said, coming up behind him. Was it her imagination or did he start a little at the sound of her voice?

"What is it?" he asked.

"I need to talk to you privately. Do you have the time?" Elita whispered.

"What about?" Magnus wanted to know, but he lowered his voice to match hers. Good. She had his attention.

"About Rodimus. I was hoping you could help me understand him. Optimus is too worried about him to be very objective, although honestly I don't blame him," Elita said.

Magnus gave a long suffering sigh. "That boy has been a headache since the day he was activated and the older he gets, the better he gets at it! Come with me. We'll use my quarters. Mr. Assassin usually knocks before he enters so hopefully he won't creep up on us there, and if he does hear us talking about him it serves him right for being such a sneak."

Elita nodded and smiled to herself, knowing from the exasperation in Magnus' voice that he was every bit as worried as Optimus was. She smiled wider when they got to Magnus' quarters and the City Commander not only locked the door but pushed a chair in front of it.

"THAT should warn us if he tries anything," Magnus growled, looking at the chair with his hands on his hips.

"I wouldn't bet on it," Elita said with a smile.

Magnus sighed yet again. "You're probably right. What did you want to ask me?"

"Well, I'm just trying to get a feel for him. When I first met him, I got the impression of a real free -spirit...."

"A real lunatic you mean," Magnus interjected.

Elita laughed. "You said it I didn't, but you're right. My first clear memory of Rodimus is him clinging to Optimus' optic sensors and leading him down the tunnel laughing madly. True, he handled Chromia like an expert but then he went back to teasing us into a vacation. It took me a while to see past the silliness and realize he actually IS very serious about his duties but I thought at least some of that light-hearted facade was real. Now I'm not so sure. Does he ever enjoy himself? Does he know how? Or is it all just a show for our benefit?"

"It's hard to say Elita. I don't feel like I know him that well myself anymore," Magnus said, indicating Elita should sit down as he did. He remained standing, and cast occasional suspicious glances at the door.

"Well, what was he like when you did know him? Did he ever know how to relax?" Elita asked.

"Only too much so. Even when he first assumed the leadership it was sometimes hard to get him to take his duties seriously. He did grow into it though, especially after he and Optimus formed the partnership. I thought during those first years they were working together that he had finally found some balance. He was attentive to his work but kept his attitude light for morale's sake, and when he was off-duty he was able to set things aside and maintain his friendships. I remember thinking that that was perhaps the best part of the partnership - it gave both Primes time to do their jobs, but still retain some personal time to relax and be... well... themselves. I felt they both made sounder decisions because they weren't so fatigued."

"That changed though, especially for Rodimus," Elita prompted.

"I think being tortured did a lot to destroy Rodimus' ability to enjoy himself," Magnus said quietly.

"Losing his mate didn't help either," Elita said.

Magnus shrugged. He had no point of reference with which to judge the effects of such a loss.

"Don't you think he would be better off if he would let some of his past go and make some effort to relax once and a while?" Elita asked.

"Absolutely. I already said I thought his judgment was better when he let himself have some time off, but these days we're lucky if we can get him to recharge. The Jabez and those they kill haunt him and drive him. He's flat out told me he feels every second he spends taking care of himself amounts to another death, a death he feels responsible for. He certainly would not count himself worth some down-time. The guilt eats at him."

"Rather senseless, isn't it? I mean, what the Jabez do isn't his fault. It seems silly to waste so much energy on guilt when there's really nothing he can do about it. Certainly he shouldn't deprive himself of any sort of happiness over something he can't change."

"Well, Rodimus is intelligent but he's never had too much sense," Magnus said.

"Ah...so what about you?" Elita said.

Magnus blinked at her for a full five seconds, his train of thought completely derailed by this rapid change of subject.

"Uh.....What?" he finally asked intelligently.

"Well, except for perhaps a matter of degree, it seems to me that you and Rodimus have a great deal in common. You certainly deal with things in a similar fashion."

"Uh....What?!" Magnus said again.

"Oh, I'm just remembering another young warrior who signed up for Optimus' army right after he assumed command. This soldier did his job quite competently, but was still known to cause a little mischief once in a while. He also was known to cry malfunction now and then as well, when there was, let us say, something better to do than go in for training exercises. I rather liked him. I felt he had his head on straight. You know, didn't take things too seriously. Loved life.

Then came on of the first really bad Decepticon assaults. It took everyone by surprise - especially a certain group of young Autobots who were out on a training mission. Up until then, we had just face a few Decepticons raiding storage depots, energon factories, that sort of thing, but Megatron changed his strategy in a way none of us foresaw. We were all still so unused to that kind of violent mentality.

He quit targeting supplies and started targeting us.

He would catch isolated groups and assault them with overwhelming numbers, massacring every one of them. We lost so many warriors those first years, if you can even call them warriors. They were just volunteers - people who wanted to help, but which of us really knew how to fight then? Optimus and I weren't experienced fighters either, nobody was. We didn't have anyone to train us or our people! We learned fast enough to be sure but we lost a lot of ground and a lot of lives in the process.

We were innocent and we paid the price, but we weren't to blame for our lack of insight. Certainly, one person would not have made any difference in that first massacre, except to add another number to the body count. Everybody knows that except perhaps for that one young soldier who decided to go his own way that day. Who was not with his division when they were attacked. Who survived because he wasn't there but went around for weeks claiming their deaths were on him because he wasn't there to help them."

Elita stopped. Ultra Magnus was staring at her in mute horror, his optics dimmed with the memories of what she was saying. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was amazed at the gall she had reducing him to this but he found himself defenseless against this particular assault.

"Magnus. It wouldn't have mattered if you had been there. It wouldn't have helped anyway. How long are you going to punish yourself for what happened?" Elita asked vehemently.

"I ignored my duties! My division was slaughtered because of it!" Magnus said, a little shrilly, sounding a lot more like his younger self than anyone but Elita or Kup would ever have guessed.

"You took a day off. Fortunately it also happened to be the day your division was slaughtered.

"FORTUNATELY?" Magnus cried.

"Absolutely. If you hadn't we would never have had the benefit of one of the most competent officers in our history, but you can't keep punishing yourself for this Magnus! You have to get out once and a while too!"

"You are completely mistaken...." Magnus began, but Elita cut him off firmly.

"Oh am I? OK, Commander. Analyze for me. Given your knowledge of the area, the number of Autobots vs. the number of Decepticons, and your own physical capabilities at the time, what exactly do you suppose you could have done that would have made any difference? We won't even allow for the fact that you hardly had any practical experience in those days either. Assume you knew everything about warfare and strategy you do now, and give me a viable plan that would have saved even one life other than your own."


	6. Chapter 6

**Maelstrom 5**

**Elita: Part 6**

Author's note: This story is part of a LONG series called Maelstrom. It is strictly Gen. 1 - sorry, but that was all that was out when I started writing back in the late 1980's. It began as a fan-publication so the first chapters are in the form of a **comic book**! If you have not read the nine original **Maelstrom Comics** and the preceding text stories, I strongly suggest you do. This is a complex universe. They can be found at http// illmatar. deviantart. com (I have put double spaces between the addy here or FF . Net eats the link.) The comics and art which accompanies this series are there...and believe me I am a better artist than writer.

**Most chapters of this series contain strong language and violence. Rated M for adult themes! Really! Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Critiques adored!**

Magnus gawked at her. Then he set his jaw stubbornly and frowned with concentration. Elita sat back and waited, noticing his gestures while he thought, shook his head at himself, and thought some more. He paced the room a few times and then finally stopped, putting one hand over his optics. Elita smiled sadly to herself.

"It's time to put this behind you Magnus," she said compassionately. "I watched you become more and more rigid with yourself over the years and I can see it continued after our forces were split. And you did become one of the most efficient, disciplined soldiers on either side of the war, but where is the time for you? Where is your life? You need to live, Magnus. Just like Optimus needs to. Just like Rodimus needs to. This new war demands it. After what we just did....who wouldn't need to relax? If we don't, we'll go mad. Rodimus may already be going mad. Optimus is more nervy than I've ever seen him. Jazz is sulking. Jazz! Sulking! You have to admit this to yourself. You have to. It's the only responsible thing to do."

Magnus stared at her some more and then grumbled something affirmative sounding, shuffling his feet. Elita laughed.

"I'll take that as a promise," she said, still laughing, "Now, what are we going to do about the others?"

"We?" Magnus said, still in a spin over how deftly he'd just been maneuvered. "The others?"

"Yes," Elita said. "I can handle Orion with no problem, but I don't know the others as well as I do the two of you. Does the Captain need anything right now?"

"Marissa? No. Humans are...adaptable," Magnus said. "I suppose I can try to talk to Jazz, but don't ask me what to do about Rodimus. I'm ready to try a girder over the back of his head, but I doubt I could actually hit him."

"We'll think of something. We always do," Elita said quietly.

"I hope you're right," Magnus said grimly.

Magnus did seek Jazz out later that day, and found the Specialist sitting in his quarters in the dark. Jazz seemed surprised to find Magnus at his door, and more surprised when Magnus awkwardly offered "to listen if there was anything you need to get off your chest." The offer took Jazz completely off guard. Magnus wasn't prone to open up himself let alone encourage anyone else to do it, and Jazz wasn't prone to listing himself among Magnus' closest friends. True, they had be thrown together on a lot of missions lately, and they had solid respect for each others abilities, but when it was time to go home, they always went their separate ways. Jazz always had some interest or other to pursue, and Magnus, well, when Magnus got off duty he always went to work.

The offer to listen was a monumental act of friendship coming from Magnus who clearly felt completely out of place doing it. Jazz was grateful and although he could see Magnus would have been just as glad if Jazz declined, the Specialist took what was offered. He needed it.

They talked a long time. First Jazz mostly just vented the pure self-disgust he felt about having killed so many in recent days. Magnus actually did feel sorry for Jazz in this regard. It was difficult for all of them, but Jazz in particular had never been inclined towards the more brutal side of the war. He was always the one to dazzle enemies, surprise them, trick them, and generally out-think them. While he was an excellent fighter, he used that skill to disarm his opponents or out-maneuver them until they had no choice but to retreat. It wasn't cowardice - Jazz often went to much greater risks to hatch his schemes when a simple blast in the back would have taken the Con in question out of the picture. That simply wasn't Jazz's style however. It lacked "class" as he put it.

Now he was wondering if the Autobots even counted as "the good guys" anymore.

"We did what we had to do, Jazz," Magnus reminded him, "You knew that before we started."

"IT'S NOT THAT SIMPLE AND YOU KNOW IT! Or at least you SHOULD know it!" Jazz snapped. "We just committed GENOCIDE....DELIBERATELY! Some things you can't just wash your hands of and say 'We had to do it!'"

Magnus reminded himself to remain calm although he didn't much care for being yelled at. "It's true though," he said.

"You are such a cold bastard Magnus! You always have been! No wonder your evil side came out as that ruthless dictator! You're as bad as Megatron! Anything goes as long as you get what you want, is that it?! We're as bad as the 'Cons! All of us!"

Magnus bristled defensively, but again checked himself. He could hear Jazz's voice quaking with self-loathing that went even deeper than the insults he threw at Magnus. Whatever the Specialist was saying to him Jazz was saying even worse things to himself.

"You're right. What we did was as bad as what Megatron tried on Earth. Worse, if you think about it, because we succeeded. But Jazz...we really didn't have any other options. We tried to find another way. None of us did it out of hate, or laziness, or contempt for lives other than our own. If anything distinguishes us from our Decepticon cousins its that we do hunt for other options and use them whenever possible."

"That's a fine distinction Man," Jazz said, sounding sullen.

"Yes," Magnus sighed.

"It doesn't bother you much, does it?" Jazz asked. "Rodimus either."

"Yes it does. And you know it bothers Rodimus, so don't get ridiculous. I have just had it pointed out to me however, that I do do what Rodimus does in one respect. When something bothers me on a personal level I hide it."

Jazz looked at Magnus in surprise at this confession. "Well, maybe I should give that a go," Jazz said. "It works for everyone else around here."

"No it doesn't! Don't even think about it. It isn't a good idea and I have agreed to try to mend my ways," Magnus said, finishing a bit sheepishly.

"Heh!" Jazz snorted, "There's only one person on board I can think of that would dare suggest that to you! She's awfully cute for such an implacable little pink bulldozer!"

"I never saw it coming," Magnus said with a smile. "I can't wait to see her have a go at Rodimus. Someone may get through that thick skull yet! Seriously though Jazz, you of all people need to keep this in perspective. What we did was horrible, but is it more horrible than letting two planets full of innocents die or be enslaved? It's not like we did it for personal gain Jazz! I'm not saying it should sit easy with you! We really wouldn't be any different than the Cons if we weren't bothered by this, but don't let guilt destroy your ability to think well of yourself, or enjoy yourself."

"I'll think about it. Thanks Man," Jazz said.

"You do that...and you're welcome," Magnus said. He got up and headed for his quarters, running into Marissa on the way back. He hadn't lied to Elita. All things considered, Marissa was "adapting" to things very well, but for her this trip had the extra shock of learning her species was also of Jabez manufacture. Once she had time to really stop and think about it, she felt like her entire foundation of belief was crumbling. Turning to Magnus was coming a habit for her in times of crisis....first when she lost her faith in EDC, and now when she was questioning the very worth of her species and her life. Magnus knew only too well what she was feeling, and he tried to help her resolve things with some sort of hope intact. By the time they got done discussing recent events all over again, Magnus felt more tired than if he'd just fought a ten day battle with no recharge time. When exactly had he become a counselor? It wasn't exactly his forte`.

Elsewhere onboard, Rodimus was feeling even more exhausted than Magnus. He had just re-sedated Blitzwing, who was showing signs of improvement but who still couldn't shut down any other way. Getting slowly to his feet, Rodimus was rather alarmed when the world spun a bit and his balance faltered. An outside observer wouldn't have noticed anything - they might even have remarked on his relative grace compared to the rest of his kind but Rodimus knew there was something wrong.

He just wouldn't acknowledge it - even to himself.

However, he did decide it was time for a recharge and oh how he dreaded it. Maybe he could try to stay awake through it again - the equivalent of a human feeding themselves but depriving themselves of sleep for weeks on end. Full shut down always brought nightmares though and worse. Worse was the flashes of thought and emotion from the other side of the shield he held between his mind and Lancer's. These things tore the shield, which then needed repair, which was tiring, which required more shut-down time, which caused more tears....... No. He would definitely have to stay awake again.

He tried not to wonder how long he could keep this up. He tried not to wonder why she was still alive. He knew she never meant for him to have to hold this barrier so long...a few weeks at most. He wondered what the hold up was, tried not to get his hopes up, and tried not to worry about what it would feel like if she succeeded in getting herself killed.

It was getting worse. He admitted it to himself without admitting it, meaning the fact was too glaringly obvious to ignore but caused no change in his course of action. There was nothing he or anyone else could do about it. He just had to endure. The past weeks had been especially hard because of the rigid control he'd needed to keep on his emotions to deal with the Quints and maintain the shield. It wouldn't do for his emotional pain to reach La.....to get through the shield.

Damn. Ripped again. Getting awfully prone to that wasn't it? He worried, briefly, that repairing all these tears was taking a similar exhaustive toll on...on the other side...and cursed himself when the gap widened. Guiltily he scrapped up all the strength to repair it as quickly as he could, and resolved for the millionth time not to allow any more random thoughts mar the flimsy barrier. There was an opening for the idea that that resolution was damned near impossible but he didn't allow it to form out of sheer stubbornness. He'd been down that road before - going in endless circles about not thinking about something while trying to shield that something and worrying that every worry about that something would hurt/anger that something, and worrying about that worry too. By the time he'd forced himself out of that loop the damage to the shield had been nearly impossible to repair.

It was a good thing he had other concerns to occupy his attention.

It made him almost grateful for the Jabez.

He spent a few minutes tempting flashbacks while he thought about them. Anything to get his mind off that loop.

Rodimus knew he was frightening the others. He frightened himself. The last few weeks had such a knife-edged clarity that it was almost as though his conscious mind had been suspended and his memories were made of pure sensation. He remembered sights, sounds, sensor readings - and almost no emotional or cognitive assessment of any of it.

He remembered each and every death he'd caused with flawless accuracy...and he remembered feeling nothing until it was over, except, a little, when they found Blitzwing, and when that Quint had mentioned Goldbug.

It was pretty much the same way he remembered those last few days in Jabez hands - details, details, details, but no emotion. Or maybe it was too much emotion for him to recognize as such.

Either way, he knew he teetered on the abyss of insanity that the Jabez had carved for him. His mind was taking on that whirlwind pitch of too many ideas again. He couldn't stop thinking and plotting. His body demanded rest but his mind couldn't slow down and every time he tried the faces of every Convert he had killed stared back at him from behind his optics. They stood there, captured in agonizingly exquisite detail, rank upon rank, in mute accusation. They said nothing. They didn't need to. Their faces were all it took. All unique. All individual. All priceless life made dull, cheap, and uniform by the violation of Conversion. Robbed of their individuality and specialness by uncouth six-fingered hands who didn't recognize the value in what they destroyed.

Rodimus did though. He saw it in the faces of those he couldn't forget. He didn't need the faces to speak to know he'd failed them.

Every day added more faces to the hoard which confronted him in his dreams.

He shuddered, and wished he really dared go mad. Madness was its own coping mechanism, and he knew it would lessen his pain. What would _she_ do if he let go of his sanity....?

Damn. Another tear. Really must stop allowing thoughts like that to surface.

And here was Optimus again.

Go away Optimus. I'm tired.

"Rodimus, I need to talk to you."

No. You want something I can't give. "Yeah, partner. What's up?!" Sounds flippant enough.

"You. You haven't properly recharged in days. You know you can't keep doing this to yourself!"

Weeks actually, but who's counting? I hate it when he gets that hysterical tone in his voice. Makes me worry he's cracking. "I know. I know. Thanks Mommy. I'll get right on it!"

"RODIMUS! Don't patronize me! You're beginning to really scare me. Between this and the way you handled yourself with the Quintisons, I'm starting to seriously consider relieving you of command!"

Really? Do ya promise? "I handled the Quints. That's what bothers you. I did what I set out to do. You know I didn't want to do it, but I didn't see YOU coming up with any better ideas so get off my back!" As if I wanted a shit load of Sharks and Quints joining the others staring at me every time I shut down!

"That's not what I'm talking about and you know it!"

Yes it is, and you know it! "Fine. Next time I have to go kill someone I'll make sure to arrange a big weeping fit for you during the fight. Will that make you feel better?"

"I will feel better when you start taking care of yourself!"

What? The rest of the universe isn't enough for you? "I'm fine."

"You're NOT fine. You haven't been fine since..."

DON'T say it. Don'tsayityou fuckingbastard!

"....Lancer left."

*RrrrrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRIIIIIIIPPPPPPPPPPPP*

Shit that's a bad one. Thanks partner! Really! "I'm not having this conversation with you again. I'm sick of it."

"Rodimus this shield is draining you!"

No shit Sherlock! "It wouldn't be nearly as bad if you would shut up about this."

"About her! Rodimus! Can't you even say _her_? Say it! Say her name!"

"Her... name. I'm going to my quarters."

"I want to hear you say it! Rodimus say Lancer!"

*ssssssshhhrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaddddddddddddd!*

fuckit. another tear! "Well I want you to shut up about this. I guess life is full of disappointment for both of us."

"Rodimus! Don't walk away from me!"

Would running be better? Let's see. A flash bomb right about now and.....PERFECT! He won't see which corridor I took. I need a recharge. I'll use his chamber. It will give me enough time to get a little energy back while he's out looking for me. At least I know I'm alive. Death can't hurt this much, can it?

The last thing Rodimus really heard before slipping into Optimus' locked quarters was his blinded partner roaring his name in frustration. He didn't realize it, but he spent a lot longer in there than he intended to. Before Op's door even shut behind him, the incredible strain of repairing the wall diverted almost all of his life-force away from his circuitry. He froze on the threshold, his body nearly lifeless, while his consciousness struggled with the rent shield. As far as he knew very little time passed before he was done, but it was actually several minutes before his body reactivated, and he finished crossing Op's quarters. He got into the recharge chamber, and deliberately ignored the panels which would have told him he consumed almost double of what would be considered normal. He didn't shut down, and the recharge did his exhausted mind no good. It did improve his physical state, but only slightly. The shield ate up the power almost as fast as the recharger could restore it. By the end of the day, he would be dangerously low on power again, and in no way inclined to do anything about it.

x

x

x

"Heck of a ride," Jazz said to Magnus as they approached Cybertron at last. They hadn't seen their home in nearly two months. Somehow, it didn't seem the same.

"Hmmpff," Magnus said. Kup was giving Optimus clearance to land.

"At least Rodimus finally turned up. I thought Optimus was gonna tear the ship apart! I wish I could pull a disappearing act that slick once and a while. Optimus thought he left the ship."

"That's only because he didn't check the lifepods," Magnus grunted.

Optimus turned around to glare at his City Commander, "You might have said something."

"You didn't ask. I didn't know you thought he left the ship," Magnus said. Optimus grumbled.

"Heck of a ride," Jazz mused again to himself as they passed the moon on their approach.

"I wish it was over," Magnus said.


End file.
